Date Me Like You Mean It

“What?”

Her attitude takes me by surprise. I expected her to be more upset.

“Yeah, let’s go. If we only have until tomorrow, we have a lot of love to cram into a few hours.”

I laugh and shake my head as she leaps out of bed.

“We’ll go to breakfast and then we can take a walk around Town Lake. I haven’t been to BookPeople in forever. We can browse through their new fiction section and then—”

I grab ahold of her waist and yank her back onto the bed.

She yelps as I swing my body over and on top of hers.

“We’ll do all of that,” I tell her, starting to tug her tank top up over her stomach. “Just…later.”

“Are you kidding me!? Again!?” She laughs.

“I can’t help myself,” I say, dropping my lips to her navel. I’m already working her shorts off her legs. “Try not to wake the dead this time, will you? I bet Lucy is still sleeping.”

We stay in her room all morning, tangling her sheets, getting sweaty and worked up before showering off again. The moment we stop physically touching, it feels like she’s already starting to slip through my fingers again. I can’t help but think of what happens tomorrow. I’ll be leaving her again, half a world away from her…again.

I’ve made a mess of this situation. Not only do I have to contend with Maddie’s annoyance with me and my annoyance with the situation, I’ll also have to confront my boss, who is most likely pretty pissed off at me. I’ve kept my phone off on purpose. I’m not checking my emails. Whatever is waiting for me at work can wait until tomorrow.

On Saturday afternoon, we stand in line at BookPeople, waiting to checkout. Maddie has a stack of six books pinned under her arm. Still, she’s not satisfied. She’s perusing the shelves near the counter, reading the synopsis on the back of yet another book.

“Oooh, I’ve been meaning to read this!” she says before trying to add it to her stack. I laugh and take it from her, adding it to my pile instead.

“I’m going to pay for that,” she says, giving me a shrewd stare.

“Uh-huh.”

At the counter, I tell the clerk to ring up all the books on one order.

“Aiden! You don’t have to buy my books! This is an equal opportunity partnership.”

I wink and tell her she can buy my lunch.

We walk over to Whole Foods across the street, heading up to the rooftop deck once we’ve grabbed our food.

“Bet you can’t eat outside like this in New York right now,” she says, leaning back in her chair and tipping her head up to face the sun.

She’s right. In February, it’s still jacket and beanie weather in New York. In Austin, people are already in tank tops and flip-flops. I stare at Maddie as she keeps her head tilted to the sky. I take in her delicate profile, the lone freckle just above her left eyebrow, the bit of pizza sauce she doesn’t realize is on the corner of her mouth.

The thought of leaving her tomorrow completely steals my appetite.

It’s the elephant in the room we aren’t talking about. Saturday bleeds into Sunday too quickly. Minutes pass even as I try to slow them down. My flight is in the early evening, and I pack my suitcase as Maddie sits on the edge of her bed, watching me.

“Don’t forget your watch,” she says, pointing to where it sits on her nightstand. I pick it up and wrap it around my wrist.

“And your toothbrush is still in the bathroom, I think.”

“I’ll get it in a second.”

“Do you want me to make you some snacks for the plane?” She stands before I can reply. “I’ll just get you an apple and some chips or something. That way you’re not hungry. I hate those flights that coincide with dinnertime. I’m always starving by the time I land.”

“Maddie—”

“I could make you a little sandwich too, if you want. I know they’ll have food at the airport, so it’s your call.” Without taking a breath, she continues, “Why don’t I just make you one and then you can decide later?”

I reach out to block her before she can leave the room. She’s been like this for the last few hours, a whirling dervish.

“Maddie, pause.”

Her eyes go round with shock.

“Don’t you want a sandwich?”

I can’t help but smile a little.

“I’m all set on the sandwiches, thanks.”

“What about an apple?”

“You’re avoiding what’s about to happen.”

Her jaw drops in shock. “No I’m not!”

“I’m leaving again.”

She thunks me on the forehead. “Duh. You’re going to the airport.”

“Yes, and I’m going to New York and then I’m likely flying to London for at least two weeks to cover a UN conference.”

“London,” she says, monotone.

“London.”

“That’s…far away.”

“Exactly.”

Her face crumbles. The veneer she’s worn all day—the happy-go-lucky, rainbows-and-butterflies girl—is gone. Her eyebrows pinch together as she shakes her head.