Anywhere (22 page)

As soon as we found his train, my feet stopped working. The immense airy building, with ceiling raised high above us, arched windows flooding the platforms with light, seemed to come to a halt as I watched Asher walk on without me.

When he realized I wasn’t with him, he turned.

We stood there for a moment, staring at each other as trains hissed before a little bell-like jingle echoed through the station and a warm female voice made an announcement in French.

All I wanted to do was tell him not to go. Tell him I wanted him to stay, that he should come with me instead. But I couldn’t do that. This trip was for his brother—I couldn’t ask him to give that up.

And, if I’m being honest, I was also afraid to ask him to choose between me and Tamara. Because what if he didn’t choose me? That was something I didn’t want to know.

He took the few steps back to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Hey,” he said, and pulled me into him.

I hid my face in his shoulder, wrapped my arms around his waist and just held on. A lump had grown so large in my throat that there was no way I could speak. Instead I just mouthed into his shirt what I couldn’t say out loud:
I love you.

And as soon as I’d (not) said it, I knew it was true. I loved Asher. With everything that I was, I loved this man-boy in my arms.

But love didn’t always work out. So many things had to line up, and if even one of them was off—like timing, say, and the imminent presence of an expectant ex—it didn’t matter how much you loved somebody.

So I swallowed the lump and tried to smile. Asher released me, searching my face, smiling sadly.

“I gotta go,” he said, and I nodded, still unable to speak. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then turned and walked over to the train and disappeared inside of it.

I stood there staring at where he’d been when there was a knock on the window next to me. I startled and turned to see Asher standing on the other side of the glass. I placed my hand against the window, and then Asher did the same, matching his hand to mine.

The glass keeping us apart.

Life keeping us apart.

My eyes overflowed.

The doors closed on the train as it hissed. My eyes didn’t budge from Asher’s on the other side of the glass.

And then the train was sliding backwards, my fingers slipping from the other side of his. I pulled my hand away, stepped back and tried desperately to breathe as the train rolled out of the station.

But there was not enough air in the building.

Not enough air in the world.

twenty-seven

T
he airport was busy, even in the morning. I was exhausted from a sleepless night, but so glad to be leaving. Surprising, given what I was headed for, but I missed Asher with a constant ache in my chest that made me want to get as far away from Paris—and London, for that matter—as I could.

After he’d left, I’d tried to distract myself, went to a couple of museums, walked for hours, but nothing had worked. All I did was miss him. So I finally gave up, went back to the hotel and tried (and failed) to sleep. At least I was tired enough today that I was likely to sleep the entire flight home. That was something to be thankful for.

After checking in and getting through security, I wandered through the shops. I had a little time to kill until my flight left, and needed something to occupy my mind, keep me from falling apart. I was already planning my pre-emptive apology to whoever I’d be sitting next to because I was pretty sure I was going to lose it again as soon as the airplane taxied down the runway.

Of course, the shops were all full of stupid souvenirs which only made me think of Asher and our ridiculous Quest. Part of me thought of texting him, and I even turned my phone on, but I stopped. He was with Tamara now. I hadn’t heard from him since he’d left—not that I’d expected to, but still it just cemented for me that he really wasn’t mine.

The problem was that everything I saw reminded me of Asher or made me want to tell him something. He’d become my partner in crime. God, I missed him.

My phone buzzed in my hand, surprising me—I’d gotten so used to not having it on.

ASHER:
You there?

I smiled crazy-big and almost cried, which was enough to make other travelers think I was insane. But I didn’t care. I was so relieved to hear from him. I was dying to know how things were going. And also NOT. So I was not about to ask.

ME:
Yup.

ASHER:
I left you a message. On your phone.

ME:
Naked pictures? Woohoo!

ASHER:
You WISH.

ME:
Oh, wait. No, that was me with YOUR phone…

ASHER:
REALLY?

ME:
NO. What kind of girl do you think I am? Wait. Don’t answer that unless it’s the Perfect Girl.

ASHER:
That’s EXACTLY what I was going to say. How do you do that?

ME:
It’s a GIFT.

ASHER:
Obvs. Anyway. Check your videos.

ME:
Should I be alone? OMG did you leave me a NAKED video? PORNO??

ASHER:
Just shut up and watch it when you get a chance.

He left me a video message? I wasn’t sure whether I was excited or scared to watch it. Or if I was even ready to. But it’s not like I was going to wait now that I knew about it. And, honestly, I was a little giddy at the thought that I had him on video.

It took me a while to find my gate (that airport is HUGE) and I settled in the corner away from everyone else. Then I pulled up the video.

There he was. His heart-melting grin captured on my screen, waiting to talk to me. My heart started beating fast, and I had to take a few deep breaths before pressing PLAY.

“Skye,” he said.

And then they called my plane for boarding.

Shit. I hit PAUSE, grabbed my pack, stuffed my phone in my pocket, and pulled out my ticket. When I got on the plane, I found my seat, stowed my bag, and pulled out my phone again.

I was just about to hit PLAY again when a woman sat down in the seat right next to mine. I looked at her, then back at my phone. If I watched it now, she’d essentially be watching it with me. I didn’t want to share this with some stranger—it felt too personal, too private to let anyone else see it. At least the first time through. I mean, I had no idea what he was going to say. But it was just for me and I wanted to keep it that way.

“Miss?” The stewardess who’d been helping passengers tuck their bags in the overhead compartments leaned over the seats next to me. “You cannot use your phone until we are in the air.”

And so there was that problem too.

Fuck.

I reluctantly turned off my phone and slid it into my pocket. Then I turned away from the woman next to me and stared out the window until we were in the air, high above the Atlantic ocean, heading west.

So, remember when I’d thought I was going to sleep the whole way over? I was completely wrong. I waited. And waited. And WAITED for the lady next to me to either (a) fall asleep or (b) get up and go to the bathroom so I could have semi-privacy to watch Asher’s video. I sat there clutching my phone, every minute that passed feeling like an eternity.

She kept talking to me—and she was a nice person but I just wasn’t in the mood to chat. It would have been a Much Better Plan if I’d thought to go to the bathroom myself to watch the video in there, but it didn’t occur to me at the time.

When the lady FINALLY got out of her seat and disappeared down the aisle, I turned toward the windows, pulled up his video, and pressed PLAY again as quickly as I could. I almost cried when he started talking—in relief at finally being able to watch his message and at just seeing his beautiful face again. Oh my god, I missed him.

“Skye. There are so many things I wanted to say to you before you I left, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why. Too scared to say them to your face, I guess, because what if you don’t feel the same way? Which is why I’m here.

“You’re asleep right now, and I’m going to wake you up soon so I can get to the train station in time…even though I don’t really want to.

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be without you. I wish I could say that to your beautiful face, the face I’ve come to love over the past month. I can’t imagine being without you, but I know I’ve got to go because I made a promise, and you have commitments to keep, and I understand that. Even if I don’t like it.

“Do you remember when I said ‘I love you’ in that field in Germany after what was one of the most amazing nights of my entire life? (Skinny-dipping with you was another, in case you’re wondering.) It wasn’t a slip, me saying that. Not really. I didn’t really intend to tell you that I loved you, but it was genuinely how I felt in that moment. Thanks for letting me backtrack in a panic without getting your feelings hurt. I don’t think you were ready to hear it then, just as I wasn’t really ready to say it.

“Are you ready to hear it now?

“Because I love you, Skye. I didn’t plan for this to happen, but you are my sun, moon, and Skye. I love that you’re snoring right now behind me. I love how you squint a little when you’re trying to figure out whether I’m kidding or serious. I love that you know where you’re going, even when you don’t think you do. I love your strength, your honesty, and your passion. I love how you laugh so hard you cry sometimes. And I love that I can make you laugh like that. I love your sense of humor and our banter. I love that you make me laugh. And I love that you can make me cry. I love that you embraced and honored my brother’s memory. I love that you touched my hand so gently and then took it in yours when I first told you about him.

“I love you for who you were yesterday, who you are today, and who you will be tomorrow. I know we’ve only known each other for a month…but Skye? I’ve been looking for you my whole life.

“Okay, well, I’ve got to wake you up in a few minutes so I can let you go. God, this sucks. But I’m going to kiss you and smile and say goodbye because I love you. But first, I’m going to watch you sleep for a few minutes more. You’re so beautiful when you sleep.”

He glanced over his shoulder for a moment, then back at the camera.

“Don’t forget me, Skye. I won’t ever forget you.”

My phone was a blur. When I looked up, the plane was a blur. I couldn’t see anything through my tears. I hugged the phone to my chest.

I didn’t know what to do. I needed to talk to him. I needed to say something. And this was one of those things that really had to be said in person—or in video, because, honestly, that was the most amazing message EVER—or, at the very least, by phone when you were separated by a humongous fucking ocean.

But I couldn’t call him from the plane because if I was going to tell him that I loved him, I needed to do it in complete privacy. I’d have to wait until we landed in New York.

Can I just say that the flight from Paris to New York was probably the longest flight of my life? When we finally got on the ground and people were oh-so-fucking-slowly gathering their stuff, and all I wanted to do was scream and start shoving them out of the way, I had to force myself to stay calm. A few more minutes was not going to kill me (even if it felt like it was). As soon as I was able to extricate myself from the plane, I’d find a quiet corner of the airport away from all of the people and call him. I didn’t even care what time it was in London. I had to tell him NOW even if it was in the middle of the night.

The people ahead of me finally started moving down the aisle, and then I was off the plane, walking down the LONGEST HALLWAY EVER CREATED IN THE HISTORY OF HALLWAYS. Seriously, had they parked the plane as far away as they possibly could? Did no one care that I had a Very Important, Life-Changing Phone Call to make??

Finally I reached the end, pushed my way through a set of double doors, and immediately looked around to find a spot to make my call, but—

Asher was standing there.

In the airport.

In front of my gate.

Grinning at me so beautifully that I couldn’t see anything but him. And then I couldn’t see anything because of the tears, and had lost all ability to form coherent speech.

“You’re…?”

“Hey,” he said. “I thought you might need a ride.”

“I don’t…” I looked around. “What?”

“No shit?” Asher said, grinning even wider. “I’ve rendered you speechless? I didn’t think that was even possible.”

He walked right up to me and all I could do was stare. And then I grinned. Like an idiot. Because he was standing right in front of me in New York City. And he was all kinds of perfect.

I dropped my pack, threw my arms around his neck, and kissed him with everything I was, everything I felt. His mouth met mine with a matching intensity that took my breath away. When we finally parted we were both breathing hard.

“What about Tamara?” I said, my mind catching up and synching with my brain again. “Wait. Don’t answer that unless you realized that you love me WAY more and couldn’t stand to be away from me a moment longer.”

He threw his head back and laughed. God, how I loved that sound.