I can’t help but grin, my stomach doing a little flip.
Great. I’ve got just the place in mind.
I text him confidently as my heart swells with anticipation. I drop him the address for the little old school pizzeria nearby the old theater in my neighborhood where we can meet up.
Sounds good.
Knowing exactly what movie will be playing this weekend for their “Nostalgia Night,” I couldn’t think of a better place to takehim. I overlooked it when I saw the promo for it, but now I feel like I was meant to see it for a reason.
I send him a thumbs up, then pull up my rideshare app and head home, smiling the whole way there.
My alarm goes off, and I get up without question. I thought it would have taken me longer to build a routine here, but I fell into it easily. I set the coffee pot the night before, so every morning when I wake up, it’s already brewing. I miss my espresso machine, I’m not going to lie, but there is no way that thing would fit on my counter.
I toss on my sweats and go for a quick run around the block, make myself breakfast, shower, and get dressed in record time. Even though I don’t have to leave my apartment because I work remotely, I do. I go to the cafe down the street every day and put in my hours and then head home. I lucked out with this location for sure. Margo really came through. It’s got that small town vibe with all the mom and pop shops and the rows of pretty historical buildings. But even in this town, there’s so much to see and explore. It’s bigger than it looks, that’s for sure. I’m sure I’ll be discovering it for years.
Thankfully I live close to both my building and the cafe, so I’m home within ten minutes of closing my computer. I run some product through my hair, refresh my cologne, and take a look at myself in my bathroom mirror. On the outside, not much has changed. My hair’s a little longer, but only because I haven’t had time to get it trimmed. I flatten out the wrinkles in my plum long-sleeve, tighten my belt on my dark wash jeans and adjust my watch. I might not look as clean-cut or polished as I used to and I haven’t exactly been to the gym in awhile, but I run every morning now. I like what I see.
I grab my charcoal peacoat and blue scarf, glancing at my watch to make sure I’ve still got time. I have at least twenty minutes still, and I live all but five minutes from Tony’s Pizzeria. But I leave anyway, unable to stand still or wait any longer.
Yeah, it’s just dinner and hanging out. Catching up on the last couple months since everything fell to pieces. But it’s pointless to tell myself not to get excited.
Because it’sCam,and I’ve accepted that no one makes my stomach flip quite like he does.
When I get to Tony’s, my heart nearly leaps out of my chest. There he is, leaning against the window, the neon lights casting a red glow on him. I’m reminded of all those years ago, when we danced under flashing red lights. When we were young.
I think I knew then that I loved him. I just didn’t know how to process the depth of that love. I didn’t know how to let myself embrace it. I was afraid to embrace it. I was afraid I’d take the shot and miss.
But I’m not afraid anymore. I have nothing left to lose, but I have so much more to give than I ever did before.
He doesn’t see me, and for a moment, I stay hidden in the shadowed corner. For the first time, I let myself embrace this moment. The butterflies in my stomach, the way my heart beats a little faster when I look at him. I let myself appreciate the candid view and embrace my attraction to the man I never stopped loving.
It’s time to get off the bench, Austen.
“Hey,” I say, my voice strong, confident.
Because for the first time, I know what I want, and there’s nothing holding me back from taking my shot.
Cam turns to see me, his smile making my insides melt once again. “Hey. You’re early.”
I shrug, not bothering to deny it or be coy. After all, he’s early too, so that tells me he’s just as excited or nervous about this meetup.
“I hope you’re hungry,” I say as I open the door for him, casting him a smirk.
“Starving,” he says as he enters, brushing against me as he goes in.
When our order has been placed, I finally speak. There are so many things I want to say. Things Ishouldsay, but none of that comes out of my mouth. Instead, all I can say is, “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Cameron looks me over, and I don’t miss the way his gaze dips to my lips, or that he lets it hover there before he speaks.
“Me too,” he says, his voice slightly raspy. The server brings us our shared pitcher of beer, which I pour in our glasses.
“So, are you between gigs right now, or—” I ask, taking a sip of my beer. He shrugs.
“Just taking some time off after…” His voice trails off, and I feel the immediate bite of his unspoken words.
“After Paris?” I ask, solidly. I watch his gaze glisten, remorse starting to swell in my gut. I wanted to text him, call him. I know it was a big deal for him, and I wish I would’ve been there for him, but there was a lot going on. Still, I should have called or texted, or something.
“Yeah,” he says softly.
