Page 86 of Embracing the Beat
“West.” I press against his chest, shaking him gently as the alarm continues to blare. “West. The alarm.”
“What?” His fingers come up and tangle with mine.
“Time to get up.”
He groans, reaching over and silencing the annoying sound.
“We need to get up,” I murmur, glad I packed last night.
“Just a few more minutes,” he says, arms tightening around me. “I hit snooze.”
“I can’t be late for my flight.” I press my lips against his warm chest. I don’t want to leave him, but the meeting with this attorney is important.
“I wish you didn’t have to go.” The words echo my own emotions.
“I’m going to miss you,” I tell him.
Propping myself up on an elbow, I fuse our mouths, tangling my tongue with his until the alarm sounds again.
The silence is tense. Like my nerves about what comes next are a tangible weight in the room with us while we get ready. We don’t say much in the car either, but the warmth of his hand around mine is a balm I wish I could take with me to LA.
We pull into the departure lane at the terminal, and he parks the car, turning to me.
“I—” His eyes search mine, and he clears his throat before bringing his hands up to cup my face. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.” The pressure of tears builds behind my eyes, and I close them, leaning my cheek into his palm. Why is saying goodbye this hard? It’s for a few days. And I’ll talk to him on the phone. “I wish you could come with me.”
“You got this, baby. I’d go if I could, but I have no doubt you’ll text me with good news after you meet with the attorney.”
“I hope so.” Opening my eyes, I meet his gaze, clinging to the certainty I see there.
“I know so.”
Slowly, he closes the distance between us, teasing my lips from corner to corner before claiming them fully. His thumbs brush my cheeks, and he tilts my head to deepen the kiss. With a moan, I wrap my fingers around his wrists.
A horn honks behind us, and we jump apart at the reminder of where we are and the minutes slipping quickly by.
Meeting me at the back of the car, he pulls my suitcase out before wrapping me in another hug.
“Call me when you land.” His lips brush my hair, and I shiver at the contact.
“You’ll still be in school,” I remind him.
“Text me then. I need to know you’re safe.”
“I will.”
I’m still not ready to let him go. It takes several more breaths before I can release my death grip on his shirt, and a dozen more kisses before I step onto the curb and watch him walk around the car.
“Don’t miss your flight,” he reminds me.
“I won’t.” Even though I’m in danger of doing just that.
Blowing him a kiss, I grab the handle of my suitcase and head for the check-in kiosk inside. At the doors, I glance over my shoulder to see him still there. He watches me and winks when my eyes meet his.
With a wave, I turn toward my destination, fighting the urge to run back to him.
It’s just a few days.
