The six of us are seated at a corner table in Cadence’s quite literally-named, Palm Court restaurant, morning light shining through the glass ceiling as guests partake in their own lazy breakfasts. The room is a veritable jungle of palm trees, and the smells wafting from the kitchen are almost enough to make me swoon. It’s only now that I’m realizing I didn’t eat anything yesterday, and it’s taken all my power not to order one of everything on the menu. Griff and I are sitting side by side, exchanging the occasional glance while we adjust to the whole “not hating each other anymore” thing. Amelia—with her boyfriend Daniel by her side—is watching it all with an amused smile, a mimosa in one hand and her phone in the other.
“Don’t you dare,” I tell her. The last thing I want is for Griff to think our relationship is going to play out on social media. Of course, deep in my heart, I’m hoping he eventually gives me the okay to post a photo of us here and there, but I won’t do it without his consent.
“Hush,” she says as she holds it up. “This is for you, not for me.”
“Amelia—”
She makes a zipping motion across her lips. “You guys look great together, and your followers will think so, too.”
“But we’re not—-”
“For God’s sake, Chelsea, let me take the picture.”
Griff laughs, surprising me a little, and I turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “Do you see what I have to deal with here?”
“I can see you’re really suffering,” he says, still chuckling, and I elbow him, eliciting even more laughter. “Hey, hey,” he exclaims, putting his hands up, “I’m on your side.”
I snort and shake my head, amused in spite of myself, before leaning in and allowing him to put a sturdy arm around my shoulders. His body feels good next to mine, like I belong cozied up next to him. Not even his lighthearted joshing is enough to turn off the butterflies I get at the feeling of him pressed up against me.
Flashes of last night come back to me, making me shiver involuntarily, and Griff rubs my arm to warm me. I’m not even sure he’s aware he’s doing it.
“Okay,” Amelia says, pausing to line up the shot, “in three, two, one… Smile!” The shutter clicks, she drops her arm, and a grin spreads across her face as she examines the photo. “Holy shit.”
“What do you mean?” I demand, reaching for her phone. “Let me see.”
Amelia holds her phone out to me, displaying the picture she just took. “Is it just me,” she asks, “or do you guys already look like you’ve been together for, like, years?”
“Oh, please.” I wave her off but blush in spite of myself. It’s only as I examine the photo more closely that I see what she means. Usually the non-candid pictures I post have a staged air to them, even if they weren’t staged in the strictest sense, there’s an artificiality to them that can never be masked completely. This one, though… I can’t tell if it’s just because I’m still riding the euphoric wave from yesterday, or if it’s something else. But in spite of the opulent setting, there’s something there. An easiness that carries through in the way we’re leaning on each other, like a couple of high school kids in the throes of a summer romance and an old married couple, all at the same time.
And it might just be the best damn photo that’s ever been taken of me.
I show it to Griff, who examines it for a long moment, long enough to make me nervous, but then the corner of his mouth twitches, and his green eyes meet mine. “That’s a good photo,” he says, nodding. “A really good photo, actually.”
“Do you mind if I post this?” I ask him, feeling self-conscious for the first time since I got naked in front of him. “I don’t have to,” I rush to add. “I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable or something…”
“Go ahead.” He flashes me a grin. “Your admirers should know you’re taken.”
“Good point. Send it to me, Amelia, when you get a chance.”
“Sure thing,” she answers. “If you two lovebirds are done, I’ll take my phone back now.”
Griff hands the phone back to her, signs our check, and stands up. “We better get going.”
A knife-twisting pain pierces my heart, and tears sting my eyes. This is what I’ve dreaded ever since I arrived in New York—the moment when I have to say goodbye to my friends. We shuffle to our feet. Hugs are exchanged and promises to call and visit soon. Then I’m left alone with Griff.
“You okay?” he asks, grabbing my luggage.
“Just going to miss my friends.”
“And me?”
I smile, walk into his arms, and kiss him. “Definitely you.”
My phone dings announcing an incoming text. I swipe the screen open and the picture of us stares back at me. I think for a long moment. Pursing my lips, I look from my feed back to him—to this hurricane of a man who’s managed to turn everything upside down for me not once, but twice. Strange how coincidences like this can still happen in a city of eight million people. Strange…but also beautiful.
Mind made up, I turn my attention back to my Instagram and type out a single word in the caption section.
Possibilities.
Epilogue
#OneDayThePlaneTicketWillBeOneWay
Four Months Later
I see him the moment I step off the plane, standing out from the people around him with his slightly messed-up hair and gorgeous, cut-steel face. My heart immediately starts pounding—just like it does every time he picks me up from a flight.
Because that thing, that jolt of lightning that he gave me that first night in Vegas? It’s never gone away. It still shoots right through me, from the top of my head right to the soles of my feet, stopping between my thighs to get me all hot and bothered on the way. It still makes me feel like I’m the luckiest girl in the entire fucking world, and like I’d be a fucking fool to ever, ever let him go.
When he sees me, he actually sprints toward me, his eyes sparkling and his long legs eating up the distance, an enormous smile plastered across his face. And I can’t help it. I start running, too, until we’re two people recklessly dashing through the airport right at each other. Like one of those clips in a cheesy romantic comedy movie.
When I jump into his arms, he catches me and spins me around, laughing at the pure joy of seeing me.
Even though I just saw him two weeks ago.
It’s been this way for the last four months, me coming up here to the city every second weekend and him traveling to Morrisville, or wherever I am, whenever he’s able. We’ve spent every second we can together, and when we’re not together we’re on the phone or texting, neither of us able to get enough of the other. Knowing him and dating him have been absolute heaven.
Except that we’ve had to do it while living in two different cities.
Oh, by the way, my family loves him.
“I worked the entire flight, so I’m free all weekend,” I breathe into his ear. “What are we going to do first?”
He puts me down and grins, his face full of secrets. “First,” he says, “I’ve got a surprise for you back at home.”