I almost didn’t recognize myself. Did I really want to go back to Bridgewater? To stay? I never wanted to stay anywhere. I was a runner. I fled. I escaped. I avoided. I always got the itch to travel if I stayed in any one place too long.
But I hadn’t…not during this last trip. Maybe I’d finally found a place where I could be content.
How ironic that it was my hometown, the place I’d spent the better part of my life avoiding like the plague.
But this trip for Jackie’s wedding had been so very different. In the past, I’d gone back alone. Felt alone while there. Left alone or at least pestered and belittled by my parents. Sure, I’d felt the brunt of my parents’ disappointment and passive aggressiveness, but Dash and Jackson had shown me that I didn’t have to take it. I could just walk away and there would be other people to be there for me. To be my friends. Lovers.
I’d met Dash and Jackson in Minneapolis and had that wild, amazing night. I’d fled, not them. They’d wanted to travel to Bridgewater with me, but I hadn’t. Even still, they’d tracked me down.
They wanted me. Right from the start. They’d barely spent time away from me. If they hadn’t had to work, I had a feeling they would have kept me between them the entire time.
My heart ached for more days like the ones we shared.
Staying didn’t mean settling. Nothing about the life Dash and Jackson offered felt like settling. Yes, I’d be less nomadic, but I wouldn’t have to give up on my dreams. I could still take the occasional travel assig
nment if I really wanted to, but I could also find a new outlet for my skills and experience. I didn’t need to live out of a suitcase.
I could stop running and start living, doing what I loved while being with the people I loved.
The people I loved.
My mind conjured up a memory of Dash and Jackson in bed on either side of me. Their quick smiles, gentle hands. Deep voices, safe holds. Dominating spirits.
And I did love them. That much I’d figured out a while ago, even if I’d been too chicken shit to admit it to myself.
I loved them. And they loved me. They hadn’t said it, but I knew it. I felt it.
And yes, I was still paralyzed by fear. I stared up at the departures screen like the list of flight times might have the answers to the mysteries of the universe. Or at least, the answers to the questions in my heart. Travelers walked past me, pulling wheeled carry-ons, pushing strollers. An announcement about watching personal belongings came from the hidden speakers overhead. The world was moving around me and yet I was standing still. I may have traveled the world, but I hadn’t gotten anywhere.
I allowed myself a moment to revel in that feeling of loving—like a warm blanket wrapped around me—and knowing that love was returned.
But could I give Dash and Jackson what they needed? What they deserved? Could I really be happy in a committed relationship? Could I be happy living in one place for the majority of my time?
I was breathless with excitement as the answer hit me like a ton of bricks.
Yes, I could. That much was certain. But could I make them happy? That was why I’d fled. To save them from me.
I clasped my hands together and took a deep breath. I sure as hell hoped so.
The gate agent intruded on my thoughts once again. “Excuse me, ma’am? If you need to get to Rio sooner, I can rebook you on an earlier flight from another airline that’s leaving in an hour.”
She eyed me, waiting for an answer, but none came.
This was it. The fork in the road.
I could get on the new flight or I could return home. I could continue on with my old life like my relationship with Dash and Jackson had never occurred. I’d be safe emotionally, if not physically. I could go back to my former world of casual affairs and high-octane travel articles.
Or I could go back to Bridgewater, which felt more like home after being there this past week than it ever had growing up. I could go back to Dash and Jackson and take a chance on a new life, one that would be scary in its own right…but satisfying. Loving. I found myself grinning like an idiot at the memory of being handcuffed to their bed.
Oh, it would be so satisfying.
The gate agent raised her brows. “Ma’am?” She was still waiting and, more likely than not, starting to think I was a lunatic for taking so long to answer.
But this was a big deal, dammit. A girl didn’t just change her life plan on a whim.
Or did she?
Hell, I’d made a career out of living life on a whim, out of following my instincts and trusting my gut.