by J. Sterling
I was wearing a victory smile as Cal handed me a menu, but I pushed it away. “Huh-uh.”
“You’re not hungry?” He pouted at me in disappointment.
I grinned back at him. “Oh no, I’m hungry. But you said it’s your favorite place, so I want you to order for me.”
This was a new one for me; I’d never allowed a guy to order a meal for me before. Chalk this up to another first in my weekend of firsts.
“That I can do.” He winked at me and then greeted our waitress when she approached.
Cal ended up ordering identical meals for us, their famous Boston burger with homemade pickles and fries. I had no idea why the burger was so mouthwateringly delicious, but it was. It might have been the seasoning or maybe it was the bun, but whatever it was, it was one of the best burgers I’d ever eaten. The homemade pickles and fries were top-notch too.
After pushing back my plate, I rubbed my stomach, feeling overly stuffed. “That was so good.”
“I told you. But save some room,” he warned.
I patted my belly. “There’s no more room. It’s full.”
“But you can’t leave without having a slice of their Boston cream pie.”
Scrunching up my face in an attempt to pout, I said, “Cal, I’m stuffed. Like a turkey on Thanksgiving day.”
“Then I’ll only order one piece and we can share it. You have to try it. You won’t be sorry.” He raised his eyebrows, knowing that I would give in.
“Fine,” I huffed. “What’s in it?”
He gave me an incredulous look. “What? You’ve never had Boston cream pie before?”
“I haven’t. I’ve seen it, of course, but I’ve never actually tried it.”
Cal shook his head at me and clucked his tongue. “Jules, I don’t know how you’ve lived such a sheltered life all these years. Let me introduce you to the best thing to ever hit your taste buds.”
The waitress brought over a piece of what looked like cream-filled sponge cake covered with a layer of chocolate drizzle.
“Ladies first,” Cal said, pushing the plate in front of me.
Eager to please, I grabbed my fork and took a bite. Holy hell. It was unbelievable, so moist and light with just the right amount of sweetness.
“Jules?”
I heard Cal say my name, but he sounded far away. When he spoke again, I threw my hand up between us to stop him.
“Don’t talk to me. I’m busy.” When he laughed and tried to stick his fork into the cake, I said, “I will hurt you,” poising my fork over his hand.
“Hey! You didn’t even want any, remember?”
“I was stupid then, but I’m much smarter now. Get your own piece.”
I glared at him, half serious and half joking. But when he flagged down our waitress to order another piece for himself, I was relieved I didn’t have to share.
Looking sadly at the crumbs left on the plate a few minutes later, I had to stop myself from scraping them up and set down my fork instead.
“Done?” he asked, grinning at me.
I nodded, too full to speak. Cal paid our check and we walked out of the diner and down the sidewalk, the fact of my leaving hanging in the air like a little cloud of sadness over our heads.
“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.
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 softne
ss 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.
Jules: Sorry. I’m still on the plane and my crazy best friend is picking me up. Talk tomorrow?
Smiling, I pressed Send and my phone instantly rang. My heart soared as I glanced at it, thinking it was Cal, but it was my best friend, Tami.
We met after college when I’d taken a temp job at a law firm to answer their phones. Unlike other recent college grads who knew exactly what they wanted to do out in the “real world,” I had no idea. So I temped at various jobs for about a year, hopping from industry to industry until I found something that interested me—high-end real estate.
Tami was a paid intern at the firm when I worked there, and we’d bonded immediately over our distrust of people who preferred tea over coffee, and over the lack of good men in Los Angeles.
“Hey, I just landed. Still on the plane,” I tried to whisper, but I was extremely bad at lowering my voice to an acceptable level whenever I was on the phone. I always thought I was being quiet, but had been told that I was anything but.
“Good. I’m almost there. Pick you up out front or in baggage claim?”
“No, out front’s fine. I just need to grab my suitcase and then I’ll be out.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about this super-hot guy you met!” she said loudly. “I’ve been dying. Jules! Hurry! Get off the plane, people! Move!” Then she hung up on me.
I looked over at the older gentleman sitting next to me and forced a smile. I knew he’d heard her. Hell, half the plane probably heard her.
I had sent Tami a text that first night after I’d met Cal, giving her only the CliffsNotes version of things. She was my best friend, and I’d felt like I might explode if I didn’t talk about him with someone. Of course she had flipped out, in the best way possible, and demanded to know every single detail, but I’d been too busy to fill her in since then. Needless to say, she was dying to get the scoop, and I was dying to share it with her.
Luggage in hand, I made my way out the airport doors and braced myself for the cold air that never came. I’d gotten so used to being in Boston that I completely forgot I wouldn’t be freezing to death now that I was back home.
A horn honked, and I saw an arm wave from the driver’s side window of Tami’s car. She was insane. Her antics reminded me of Robin from Boston, and I laughed as I imagined the two of them together. They would have loved each other. Apparently I was drawn to outgoing, ballsy women as friends.
Tami hopped out of her BMW and squealed like a seventh grader as she ran over to me. She stopped short before hugging me, her normally brown eyes a bright blue today thanks to the colored contacts she wore.
Scanning me from head to toe, she blurted, “You look different. Oh my God, you had sex, didn’t you? You little minx!”
“Lower your voice! I did not have sex. Nice eyes, by the way,” I said, knowing she’d appreciate the compliment on her blue eyes, and also to take the attention off of me long enough to get into the car.
Tami was Filipino, so she had this amazing jet-black hair, so straight and slick. No matter how many times we cut our hair at the same time, hers always grew back three times faster than mine. It was completely unfair.
She also had flawless skin and never wore foundation. She didn’t need it and actually looked super weird the one time I forced her to wear some. It was as if her skin got angry, drinking in the foundation from her cheeks and spitting it out in other areas of her face. She looked blotchy and unnatural. I, however, needed the stuff to even out my skin tone in an attempt to appear flawless. For me, flawless took work. For Tami, it came naturally.
The crazy girl was obsessed with colored contacts and wore them in all sorts of bizarre colors every time we went out. It was hilarious to hear guys compliment her on her purple eyes after asking her if they were real . . . if her purple eyes were real! Yes, guys were that dumb. Or maybe it was Tami who rendered them that stupid. In my opinion, it was a toss-up.
The only thing I had over her was the fact that I could drink alcohol and you’d never know I was drunk just by looking at me. Tami, on the other hand, turned bright pink the second any alcohol passed her lips, no matter what kind of alcohol it was or how small the amount. One drop and her entire face exploded with color. I thought it was great but it royally pissed her off, which only made it better.
I buckled my seat belt as Tami pulled away from the curb and into the stopped traffic. She clicked the button on her steering wheel to turn down the radio and then gave me her complete attention.
“Start talking. I’m dying to hear all about Mr. Calvin Not-Klein.”
I laughed. “His name is not Calvin. It’s just Cal. And thanks, now I’m picturing him all scantily clad on some underwear billboard on Sunset.” At the thought, I swiped my hand across my lips just to be sure I wasn’t drooling.
“How would you know what he looks like in underwear if you didn’t have sex with him?” she shouted. “You liar!”
I groaned. “Why the hell would I lie to you, of all people, about sleeping with someone?” She knew that I confided in her about everything, not that there had been anything to talk about on the guy front in
years.
“I don’t know,” she said with a frown. “I just got excited at the idea that you might be a little reckless. It’s been a long time since you let your guard down, you know.”
“Of course I know. But you know me. And you know that I don’t do one-night stands.”
“Such a shame. Letting all of that go to waste.” She waved her hand at my body.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Of course I am.” She gave me a big grin. “It’s what makes me awesome.”
Traffic started moving, so she refocused on the road, yelling at someone for being a shitty driver. Once the cars ahead of us achieved a steady pace, she glanced my way.
“Tell me more about him. What’s he like? Did you see him before you left?”
“He drove me to the airport.”
My final kiss with Cal replayed in my head and I shivered, thankful the car was dark so Tami couldn’t see. I pressed a finger to my lips, wishing I could still feel his.
Shaking my head, I dragged myself from that delicious memory long enough to fill her in on my weekend, and answered all her questions about Cal and his brother. It was nice to have someone to talk to, but it also made my brain start working overtime. When Tami commented how awesome it was that I’d finally met a guy who didn’t make me want to run away from him, I almost cried.
“I don’t know, Tam, it’s just—” I stopped short, not knowing what to say. There was so much going on inside me, I wasn’t sure how to organize my thoughts into something remotely coherent.
“It’s just what?” she asked.
“It’s just a bad idea. All of it.”
Now that Cal and I were separated by distance and time, worry had begun to creep in. Not only did my heart long for him, but every part of me missed him, and it scared me. I’d always been such a take-charge kind of person, in control of my own destiny, and now I was being swept away by something I had no control over. Common sense told me I should probably forget about Cal instead of craving more of him.
