Page 91 of The Way We Touch

“These tears.” His voice is rough, and he slides his thumb over the top of my cheek. “They hit me hard.”

Reaching up, I brush a fresh one away, doing my best to smile through the ache of leaving. “Would you rather I didn’t cry?”

“I’d rather you stayed.” He pulls me to him again, exhaling heavily. “It’s harder to let you go this time.”

“I know.” My voice is quiet. I love you… But I save those words for a better time, and instead I rise on my toes once more to kiss him. “I’ll be watching you tonight.”

“I’ll be thinking of you.”

I text Craig as soon as I’m alone on the plane.

He introduced me as his girlfriend.

Craig

Sounds serious.

We’re so different, but we’re so good together. How did this happen?

Craig

You’re not so different. He’s BFFs with Gary. I think you have more in common than you think.

But he comes from so much wealth and privilege, and I come from… Cooters & Shooters.

I can’t help adding a crying-laughing emoji. Even though I still ache to be with Logan, my tank is so full of fizzy, happy love.

Craig

You’re both driven and talented and hot.

You think I’m hot?

Craig

Hotter than a pepper sprout.

I’ll be home before noon. Sweet talk Thomas into making me a hamburger. I didn’t get breakfast.

Craig

Thomas will happily make you a burger, no sweet-talking required.

You’re both too good to me.

Leaning back in my chair, I consider how different the flight home is from the flight to New York. I’m content, calm, missing him like crazy, but utterly full—and after four nights barely sleeping, I crash the minute I put my phone down.

It’s a different world standing in the kitchen at Cooters & Shooters in my cutoffs and bare feet, eating a delicious hamburger Thomas made for me.

“I have to get ready for school, but I wanted to tell you what I did.”

Craig is moving around the kitchen, setting up plates for the lunch crowd. Mondays are typically slow, but we still have a decent lunch crowd. Salina swings in with a fresh order she pins to Thomas’s line.

“Tell me.” Craig stops and puts a hand on his hip.

I put my burger on the plate. “I went to the American Ballet Company and requested an audition for Mia.” Then I grab his arm and shake it back and forth with a squeal.

“You think that will work?” He’s less enthusiastic.