I laugh, releasing his hand and looking at the TV screen. “Twilight?” I arch a brow.
“It was on TV,” he defends. “Besides, it makes me think of you.”
I lay my head on his shoulder. “You really do miss me and I’m not even gone.”
He lays his head over mine. “Yeah, I do. You’re all I have left in this world that matters.”
“Maybe you’ll meet a girl while I’m gone. Fall in love.”
He snorts, watching the TV screen. “I doubt it, Weed.”
“Hey, you never know.”
He ruffles my hair. “Nice try, but I’m not looking for anyone right now.”
“I wasn’t looking for Lachlan,” I whisper and he flinches at the name. “But I found hi
m anyway. You don’t look for love. Love finds you.”
He turns his head in my direction, rubbing his lips together. “Please, don’t say his name around me. It pisses me off.”
“I’m still mad too—but being angry doesn’t change the fact that I love him.”
“And you still do, don’t you?”
“I love him as much as I hate him.” I pick at a piece of lint on my cotton shorts.
“He should be in jail,” he growls.
“I’m an adult.”
“You were his student,” he hisses. “Do you not understand how morally wrong that is?”
I loosen a breath. “Well, he’s gone now.”
“Yeah, thank fuck.”
When Sage gets up and grabs a beer, I know the conversation is over.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Sage hauls my suitcase out of the trunk of his car, pulling up the handle.
“Well, this is it.” He stares at me, memorizing my features like he’s afraid he’ll never see me again.
“I’ll be back.”
“But when?” I know he wants me to give him a definitive answer, but I can’t.
“I don’t know.” I slip my backpack onto my shoulders. He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to miss you, Herb.”
“Not as much as I’ll miss you, Weed.”
“Don’t make me cry,” I warn, throwing my arms around him.
He pulls his hands from his jeans, hugging me back. “Be safe. Call me when you land in New York for your layover.”
“I will. Promise.” I hold my pinky out to him, trying to hide my pain because it’s not Lachlan I’m making a pinky promise with.