Dear Heart, I Hate You

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I told him. “It was everything you said it would be and more.” I stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek.

He curved an arm around my shoulders and steered me toward his car. “Thanks for coming with me. Did you like the pie?”

“I had to stop myself from licking the plate, so yeah, it’s safe to say I liked the pie.”

• • •

Cal pulled to a stop in front of the airport terminal, clicking on his hazard lights before popping the trunk.

Neither of us moved to get out of the car. We both sat there, staring wistfully each other as if saying good-bye was the last thing either of us wanted. I had no idea how Cal felt, but it was definitely the last thing I wanted. I hated the thought of never seeing him again.

“One more picture?” I said as I pulled out my phone.

“Of course.”

He pressed his head against mine in the middle of his car while I snapped a picture of us looking into my phone, both of us smiling big. Then he planted a kiss on my cheek and I took another. When his fingers turned my face to his and his lips met mine, I melted. And took another.

“Now a serious face,” I said with a giggle.

“Why?” he said, pursing his lips as if he was annoyed, but I knew he wasn’t.

“The lips. I need them in their full glory,” I insisted.

Cal nodded before throwing up a gang sign, and I burst out laughing as I took the picture of us. I didn’t even care that I was a blurry blond mess. His lips looked amazing, and I knew I’d be thankful for these pictures once I was back home and a million miles away from him. They’d get me through any withdrawals I might have.

And I might have a lot of them.

His expression turned serious. “I had a really great time with you.”

“Me too. I had so much fun. The game was awesome,” I admitted. I was fairly certain I’d never be able to hear about hockey now without thinking of Cal and his brother. “I should go.”

“I know. I just don’t want you to,” he admitted, and I inhaled sharply.

Everything Cal said was so sweet and exactly what I wanted to hear. A few simple words strung together in a particular order, and I found myself turning into the sort of girl who had always believed in love—I hadn’t. And the kind of woman who had always wanted to give her heart away—I didn’t.

I moved first, opening the passenger door and stepping out into the chilly evening air. Cal stood next to the driver’s side of his car, watching me, his eyes sad. We both walked toward the trunk of his car, where Cal pulled out my suitcase and lowered it to the ground.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said as he pulled me into a hug. His arms wrapped me tightly as I breathed him in. “Call me when you land?” he whispered, and I had to stop myself from cheering as I read way too much into his simple request.

Cal hadn’t asked me to text him, he’d asked me to call, which meant I got to talk to him once I was back home. In my own state. Twenty-six hundred miles away. Our communication wasn’t ending the second I walked into the airport, and I couldn’t have been more excited about that.

“I will,” I said as I pulled away.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine again. I let him take the lead, letting him decide how deep and long this good-bye kiss would last. I was half-tempted to miss my flight if it meant I could keep kissing him.

In the story of us, was this it? Was this really our last kiss?

No sooner had the thought entered my mind when Cal slowly pulled away, disappointing clouding his features. “You’d better go.”

“Okay.”

Conflicting emotions welled up inside me. I was simultaneously thankful for meeting him, sad at having to leave, confused at what this all meant, and hopeful that I might possibly see him again. It was too much at once.

I will not cry.

I will not get emotional.