“Of course. I had to let her know how serious I am and give her the chance to cuss me out. She was pretty mellow, but I’m even more aware of how deeply I hurt you. If you weren’t cheering in this fucking game, I’d take you to an unknown location and spend the rest of our break making it up to you.”
“I don’t know if I should kick you or kiss you.”
“Kiss is always the best answer.”
I think about what he’s saying and decide to go ahead and ask him the question that’s bothered me since the night he took that phone call.
“Who did you talk to? In Aspen, you left the room when Nate and I were waiting to watch a movie.”
“The jeweler making your bracelet. She emailed me several charms, but none had enough room for me to say what I wanted, so she had an idea. I loved it and then made sure it was ready for Mom to pick up the next day.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Who’d you think I was talking to?”
“I was too scared to ask,” I whisper meekly.
“Never, ever be scared to ask me anything you want to know.”
“Okay.”
The driver informs us we are here, and I reluctantly slide across the seat and out of the van. Bryce follows and tells him to give us a few minutes.
Once I get my boarding pass and bags checked, we walk hand in hand as far as he can go. A few tears fall down my cheeks even though I try hard to hold them in.
“Baby, don’t cry. I’ll see you soon. Even sooner if you get into that museum exhibit.”
“I’ll miss you, Bryce.”
“Me too, babe. Call me when you land.”
I lunge into him, knocking him back, but he catches me and holds on tight. I kiss him briefly, knowing any more will be my undoing.
He watches me with his arms across his chest until I’m completely through security. The tears start to fall again, and he shakes his head and pulls out his phone.
“No tears, Devon. This isn’t goodbye,” he says hoarsely when I answer.
“I can’t help it,” I croak.
“I’ll see you soon, promise. Nothing changes.”
“Okay.”
“You’re mine. I look forward to proving it.”
“Me too.”
“Bye, baby.” He hangs up.
I find my gate and then the closest restroom, where I let the tears flow. This time, I’m not heartbroken but completely in love—again.
“Please, tell me we’re done. No more,” I plead with Quinn, falling back onto the bed.
“D-O-N-E,” she answers, sitting on the other bed. “But your ass is going out with me tonight. I don’t care what you say. Take a catnap, drink a red bull, wh
atever you need. I’m not spending New Year’s Eve in this hotel room.”
“Ugh, I’ll get a second wind. You shower first.”