She scoffs in my direction. “For men it’s always about sex.”
I don’t bother responding to her for more than a few reasons. I don’t want to think too much about yesterday, especially in a negative light. If I give Elena’s opinion too much space in my brain, she might start to make sense. Trey has been nothing but respectful regardless of his male genitals. Plus, it’s not like we were alone. Besides our time on the beach last night, there was always someone nearby. While there was some heavy petting, we’d already been busted once. Sand is also a problem out there, and I was not going to have sex on the beach.
Sure, it would’ve taken less than five words to talk me into spending the night in his room, but he never asked. Which is fine because, to be honest, I wasn’t in control of all my faculties last night and there is a miniscule chance I'd regret it now. Not the sex, but the fact it would make his exodus today a trillion times harder.
“He’s leaving today, Elena. It was a vacation fling and nothing more. It’s not like we’re soul mates, so give it a break.”
Each word from my mouth is a complete lie. I already feel too connected to a man I met a few days ago. I don’t need sex to muddy the waters more than they already are. It’s not normal to feel so enthralled with someone as quickly as I've become with Trey. Forget that my heart beats faster when he’s near. Or his minty breath as it tickles my ear when he whispers things to me. All of it will be dream fodder for the rest of my life. What has me worried is the way my soul perks up when I spot him. Can a person make you lighter? Happier? If my feelings were a color, they'd be bright yellow whenever Trey is beside me.
The fact my thoughts have taken this route is scary. I mean if feelings had color… what has gotten into me? I don’t think shit like that. No normal person considers their feelings to be yellow. Trey will go back to San Francisco and play his video games. I will return to New York and resume Thursday night cocktail evening with the girls and help the right and humorless in the city buy fancy toys. It’s as simple as that. Sweetest day is in a few months so I have a whole slew of flowers to order for wives.
“If it wasn’t special, why did you look like someone killed your cat earlier?” she questions from between our beds.
I roll my eyes in her direction, but her head is stuck under the bed looking for misplaced items and she doesn’t see. “I don’t have a cat.”
One day I’ll meet a cute guy, we’ll get married, have lots of babies (okay two) and move out to the suburbs where we’ll spend the rest of our days. My life is simple and doesn't involve the West Coast and some video game executive.
“Can I throw this cup away?” Two of Elena’s fingers pinch the top of the neon green cat cup from my first night with Trey.
“No!” I try to jump across the bed to grab the cup she’s taken from the nightstand.
She leans back. “Yeah, sure you don’t have a cat.” She tosses the cup to me and I place it next to my clothes. It’s a thick plastic, but not one I’m willing to risk in my suitcase. I’ll have to carry it on the plane.
**
I leave Elena packing for our early departure tomorrow and make my way to the grand lobby with a heavy heart weighing down my steps. Why didn’t I ask him for a room number? I should have surprised him this morning with breakfast. I should have done something.
At the end of the wallpapered hallway, those large sculpted beams that circle the middle of the lobby become visible. Trey in dark wash jeans and a short sleeve green t-shirt leans against the pole closest to where I exit the suite sections. His hand clasps at a deep groove in the fishy sculpture, making him appear tense but still gorgeous.
My steps pick up, forgetful of why they’re here in the first place. His attention is to his phone. Then, as if he senses my presence in the area, his head rises to meet mine and his lips spread into a carefree grin.
“You came.” Trey doesn’t leave his spot on the column, but he pulls me closer to him when I get within his reach.
Like we’ve been doing this for years, I wrap my hands around his neck and fiddle with the wispy black hair at the base of his head. Our embrace feels natural. To an outsider we must look like more than people who met three days ago. It’s a weird bond we share.
“Of course I came. You weren’t worried, were you?”
My head falls to his shoulder in an attempt get as close as possible. His t-shirt is thin and I rub my head like a cat on the fabric as his muscles flex underneath. With scant minutes before he leaves, I don’t have time to worry about what he or anyone else will think of my behavior. The spicy scent from Trey’s cologne mixes with the breezy air off the ocean, and I wish I could bottle it. Make it into a candle and burn it to get me through the upcoming cold New York winter in a few months.
“Not worried. Hopeful. Why didn’t I make you sit in my room during the conference call? We could have laid on the bed and watched TV. At the least had breakfast together,” he apologizes and the thought of the two of us together on his bed makes me even more regretful that this trip has to come to an end.
His hands wrap tighter around me. He smooths them down my back and they come to rest on the top of my hips, until they move lower and he’s cupping an ass cheek. I guess Trey’s not worried about his behavior either.
I snuggle into his embrace. “I wish…”
“Don’t.” His grip tightens while his words silence mine.
I wish? I wish what? How does he know what I would have wished for? He doesn’t need to say the words for me to know Trey’s right. Nothing I wish for will change our situation. You don’t do long distance with someone you’ve known for three days. I want to lie to myself and say we’d exchange phone numbers to stay friends, but at the first mention of him dating my heart would break. Better to rip the bandage off today rather than slowly peel it back later.
We need to come to an end now. A quick semi-painless end without deluding ourselves there could be more. Yes, it will hurt, more than I expected, but it would be far worse to have misplaced hope.
“Lynden shuttle!” a voice carries from the main entrance announcing Trey’s ride to the airport.
He sighs and his body slumps. We’re both resigned. “That’s you.” I try to at least play the part of strong and tap my hand on an open section of his chest and step back. I don’t make it far when his arms tighten around me again and we share the quiet embrace.
“Last call Lynden shuttle!” The unseen reaper to our short relationship slashes his scythe again.
“I guess this is it.” Trey releases me and steps away from the column. He pauses, face tight, his forehead wrinkled in thought. His hand reaches to his face where he runs his thumb against the dark stubble. “Make sure and stay warm this winter.”
Our gaze lingers for a moment and then Trey takes a deep breath, turns, and heads toward the front entrance without a backward glance. I’m left stunned in my place by our column. “Stay warm this winter?” That’s what I get as my monumental good-bye?
Every piece of excitement and thrill Trey gave me over the last two days is sucked away as I watch him walk around the corner and out of sight. Teenagers have less emotionally fueled romances than this. Hell, my chest didn’t hurt this much when during my junior year of high school Tommy Jones — who I thought was my soul mate — cheated on me after I gave him my virginity.
The worst part… we didn’t even get a good-bye kiss.
