Dear Heart, I Hate You

Because crying at this point would be bat-shit crazy, and I was not bat-shit crazy.

Steeling myself, I reached for my suitcase and pulled it next to me as I walked away from Cal, his Mercedes, and his dreamy lips.

I hadn’t even gotten inside the terminal before I heard him call my name.

“Jules.”

At the sound of his voice, I stopped and turned to find him striding toward me like a man on a mission. Was I that mission?

When he reached me, he wrapped a hand behind my neck and pulled me close, his mouth devouring mine as if it would be the last time. This was the good-bye kiss; I could feel it in my bones, and it both surprised and saddened me. Oh, how I didn’t want this kiss to be our last.

Wiping any thoughts from my mind, I reveled in the feel of his tongue, the softness of his lips, and the taste of him. I wished the world would pause in this moment so I could simply enjoy it longer, with no care for the consequences.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he leaned his forehead against mine. “I just couldn’t let you go without giving you one last kiss.”

One. Last. Kiss.

Cal released me, and my heart ached as I walked away. I didn’t even look back at him—I couldn’t. I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave if I saw him watching me the way I knew he was.

Only once I was on my flight did I finally allow the feelings from the past few days to overwhelm me. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the pictures I’d taken of us together, my heart thumping in approval. We looked good together, Cal and me. I continued scrolling until I reached the picture of us kissing in the car, and I pressed my fingertip against the screen, wishing I could jump in and experience that moment again.

That picture was taken little more than an hour ago, and it already felt so far away. He felt so far away.

It was heartbreaking when you recognized that moment when pieces of your reality turned into memories. Everything I’d just gone through with Cal, all the time we’d spent, it now only existed in my mind.

At least I had the pictures. And the sweatshirt.

Closing my eyes, the sleep that I’d been avoiding the past couple of nights quickly caught up with me, and I passed out before the stewardess finished her emergency spiel. Only once the wheels hit the tarmac in Los Angeles with a jolt did I finally wake up.

Holy shit, I’d slept through an entire cross-country flight. That had never happened before.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Jules

The plane was taxiing to the terminal as I switched my phone from airplane to regular mode, and it started pinging with notifications almost immediately. A text message from Cal appeared first.

Dream Lips: I hate that you’re not here.

My heart resumed the same pounding as earlier, and I couldn’t stop smiling like a fool. Six words and I was over-freaking-joyed, filled with so many feelings that I thought I might burst all over the cabin of the airplane.

E-mail notifications popped up as well.

Cal Donovan has friend requested you.

Cal Donovan is now following you.

It was official; I had a stalker. Did it count as stalking if you were totally into the guy?

Calculating the time difference in my head, I typed out a text message to him, even though he’d asked me to call when I landed. Maybe he hadn’t really meant it

now that I was back on my side of the country? It was super late there, and I didn’t want to wake him up if he was sleeping.

Jules: Just landed. I miss your face. Among other things.

Dream Lips: I told you to call.

His answer came through instantly, as if he had been waiting up. I typed out a quick response.