Joe was up and already at the restaurant when I’d awoke. Dominic couldn’t open today, and no one else had keys. I trudged down the stairs with my suitcase, trying, with no success, to go any faster. I opened the front door and found Joe packing something into my back seat.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I came closer.
“Good morning.” He pecked my lips as if it were just any other day. “You should have texted me when you were ready. I would have come up to carry your suitcase down.”
“I’m fine. I carried it up three flights of stairs at the Anchor. No worries.” Joe took the suitcase from my arms and slipped it into my trunk.
“I didn’t know The Beach Pub had porter service.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the back of my car.
Joe rubbed his neck and came closer. “We’refullservice, Ms. Longo. Complete with take-out window.” He motioned inside my car. “I packed some food for you and slipped an iced coffee in the cup holder, so you don’t have to stop on the road.”
“That was very thoughtful. Thank you.” My voice cracked as I closed the tiny distance between us and ran my finger along the collar of his polo shirt, blinking away the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
“I told you, no tearful goodbyes. It’s not like we won’t talk later on or see each other soon, right?”
“Then why do I feel like we’re Danny and Sandy fromGrease?” My gaze slid to his, and I waved my hand at him. “You’re a guy, so you probably have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“I’m a guy with a mother and sister who watched that damn movie on a loop. I think my father still has a video of me at my kindergarten graduation singing a cleaned-up version of ‘Greased Lightning’.”
“Please find that video for me.” I cupped his cheek as he laughed, turning his head to kiss my palm.
“I’ll see what I can do. So, you’re about to tell me this was the best summer ever and how it’s not fair you have to go away.”
“Not bad. And you’re going to say how this isn’t an end.”
“And I’d be right.” He grabbed me by the waist and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“If you remember, it wasn’t so easy when summer was over. Theirbeginningdidn’t start until almost halfway into the movie.”
“Because Danny Zuko was a dumb kid who didn’t know what he wanted or how to fight for it. I know exactly what I want.” He framed my face, his thumbs gliding over my cheekbones. “I wantyou. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else, and bridges and highways won’t get in my way.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded. I wanted him, too, but was afraid if I tried to speak, I’d lose the battle with the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. I covered his mouth with mine instead, our lips crashing together in a bruising kiss. I fisted his T-shirt before our kiss slowed, dropping my head into his chest to breathe him in one more time.
“I’d better get going,” I whispered, hating that I couldn’t delay the inevitable anymore.
Joe cupped my chin and eased my gaze to his before reaching behind me to open my door.
“See ya,” he whispered with a sad smile.
I kissed him one more time before slowly pulling away and sliding into the driver’s seat.
“See ya, Zuko.”
His shoulders jerked with a sad chuckle. “Drive safe.”
I nodded before he shut the door. After I started the engine and took off, I spied Joe in my rearview mirror, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched me go. I blinked away an errant tear and focused on the road ahead, not what I was leaving behind, no matter how I wanted to stop the car and make a U-turn.
I took the long way out of town, remembering all the side streets Joe had showed me. I grew more agitated as I headed closer to the highway and farther away from him. One of the older hotels at the last traffic light before the entrance caught my eye. It reminded me of the Anchor with the vibrantly loud outdated colors and flashing neon “no vacancy” sign.
A shiver skated along my limbs as an all too poetic realization hit me. Joe and I had “no vacancy” for anything. We were already booked to capacity. How would there be room for one more commitment? Especially a commitment that lived three hours away.
Joe and I were perfect together in Ocean Cove, in his apartment, living carefree on the sand. But once I went back home, was there room for each other in our lives? Ourreallives—not the fantasy we’d lived out for the past couple of weeks.
We’d try. We’d hurt, and possibly never get back the magic we enjoyed all this time. But the rotten feeling that filtered through me from my head down to my toes didn’t feel like fleeting magic. It felt a lot like fate. And like my car was headed in the wrong direction.
* * *
I pulledinto my assigned parking spot at my apartment complex after three and a half hours with no stops. Exhausted, cranky, and bone-sad, I balanced my suitcase, laptop bag, and the large insulated bag Joe packed for me until I unlocked my apartment door. I put the food in the fridge first, all five tins plus a box of cookies, and headed to the scene of the crime.
