And then, a muffled “Hang on.”
The door opens.
He blinks at me for several moments. And then, “Oh my God.”
“Hey,” I say, my whole heart bursting open with joy.
“Lucy... Oh myGod.” He steps forward. He is deeply tanned, his dark hair slightly lighter, and he seems taller somehow—though that’s impossible, of course. He looks tired, but a good kind of tired. The kind of tired that says he’s ready to stop missing me.
“Thought I’d surprise you,” I whisper, even as the tears are beginning to swell behind my eyes. “Being apart was getting too hard.”
“Please tell me I’m not dreaming,” he whispers back. Then, without waiting for me to reply, he takes my face between his palms and sets his lips against mine, like he absolutely has to check that I am, in fact, real. And now his hands are in my hair, and mine in his, and we are kissing the way they do in films—what Jools would call apocalypse-kissing—fierce and frenzied, a kiss on fast-forward because it’s just been too long.
We stumble together into his room, which I can already feel is hot, under-air-conditioned. But it doesn’t matter. A groan falls from Caleb’s mouth into mine as we find our way down onto his bed, grabbing at limbs and pulling at clothes. We become quickly slick with sweat, burning and hungry. The mattress squeaks comically with every small movement, but neither of us cares. And soon after that he is pushing up my dress and I am tugging down his shorts, and all I can think about is drinking in every second of this moment I’ve been craving since the day he left.
—
Afterward, we lie unclothed on the mattress together, the ceiling fan spinning hypnotically above our heads as we collect our scattered senses. From outside drifts the soundtrack of a foreign country, horns sounding and traffic shunting, woven through with the reeling of mopeds.
Next to me, Caleb shakes his head. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
I smile, shuffling round on the pillow to face him. “Are you surprised?”
He turns his head to mine so we’re nose-to-nose. His eyes are shining. “Surprised doesn’t even come close.”
“I couldn’t wait another month.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
“Knowing I’m impatient?” I tease.
“Well, if this is what impatience gets us,” he says, “please never, ever change.”
I roll onto my front and prop myself up on an elbow, drawing shapes against his chest with one finger. “Look at that tan. I feel so pale next to you.”
He smiles. “Pale and beautiful.”
“God, I’ve missed you. This is...somuch better than I even imagined it.”
He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear, his eyes flitting over me, seeming to drink in the sight of me. “You look amazing. I love your hair like that.”
I’ve been wearing it loose a lot more recently. Rapunzel hair, my mum calls it. It’s spilling out across my shoulders, albeit temporarily roughed up from Caleb grasping it. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“Just... tell me you’re not in transit or something. That you didn’t win some sort of... twenty-four hours in Bali competition.”
“Nope,” I say, happily. “Ten whole days.”
He shakes his head again, like he’s still half thinking I’m some sort of mirage. “Perfect.”
“Although... I totally get that you’re working. You don’t have to be a tour guide, or anything. Just so long as we can do this every day.”
He arches an eyebrow. “I’m not going to take much persuading to do this every day.”
I smile, let my gaze roam over the room. “This is really nice.” Though basic, the space seems bright and in good order—if slightly messy, with Caleb’s clothes and photography kit strewn across every available surface. There are books too, and maps, ticket stubs, and travel documents. I can only think housekeeping doesn’t attempt a daily clean.
“Sorry about the state of it. I’d have tidied up, if I’d known you were coming.”
I smile. “Believe me, I could not care less.”
