I was high maintenance and used my money too easily. I couldn’t even keep a promise to them, to myself, that I could live without frivolous spending. My transgressions all came back in full force, and with a heavy heart, I set the book back on the table. I hated that I fought with myself. It wouldn’t hurt to purchase it, and I could lie about it, but I was full of lies. Why add another? I was so lost in thought I didn’t hear Christopher approach me. He reached over and ran his thumb over my forehead, making me frown in his direction. “Any reason you’re touching my forehead?”
“You look sad and had a little wrinkle there.” His gaze moved to the book I’d set down and back to me. “Are you mad I’m going to beat you with the passport competition?”
“Yeah, right, ain’t happening, buddy.”
He pulled on the end of my ponytail in a gesture that felt so easy, like we did that all the time, and he guided us toward another area of the conference. There were breakout sessions that lasted thirty minutes where we could either buddy up or go to separate ones to get as much information as possible.
We decided to split off. I went to using data in the classroom, and he went to scaffolding reading to help bridge the gap of beginning English learners. My instructor talked about the kick-ass session that would be that afternoon, with Heather Smith, and how it would be one of the best keynotes of the whole weekend. My palms sweated, and I itched to sign up as soon as the break out was over. I even packed my bag up with five minutes to spare before bolting up from the chair and racing toward the table where people could sign up last minute.
But when I got there, they were putting up a sign that said FULL. My heart sank to my knees. I missed the deadline, and while it would be fine, disappointment hit hard. There were other events for the afternoon that would be beneficial, but seeing Heather Smith speak, hearing her preach about things that meant so much to me, would’ve been everything.
I sighed, adjusted my hair, and opened the event app on my phone to search for another event to occupy the afternoon. There was nothing that stood out, and I sat on a bench just off the hallway where Christopher had gone to attend his sessions. I tapped my yellow flats on the white tile and checked my texts every couple of minutes. He should’ve been here ten minutes ago, and I imagined him talking to a presenter and getting into the nerdy details about having bare walls in the classroom. The thought made me snort, and I relaxed, still hesitant to believe this weekend was happening. Him and me.
I swore the air shifted when he approached me with a sneaky grin five minutes later. My pulse sped up at the look on his face, and I stood, anxious to see what joke he’d share. It had to be something funny because his eyes were lit up. “Good sessions?”
“Pretty useful.” He stopped right in front of me, one brow arched as he looked at the busy foyer. “Any ideas for this afternoon?”
“You know how much I wanted to see Heather Smith, but they were full, so I’m game for whatever you want to do. When is your girl, Hillary Jones, talking?”
“She’s tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll camp out and sleep outside the lecture doors if that’s what it takes.”
I snorted, and we shared a smile.
He narrowed his eyes and had a half smile on his face when he said, “There’s a session over there about all the reasons why posters can distract students, and I think it would be best for you to attend and learn.” He licked his bottom lip and laughed when I rolled my eyes. “Actually, follow me.”
“Hm, okay?” I said, following his lead and admiring the way his jeans fit him. They were worn and faded in the pockets, and paired with his black polo, he looked gorgeous and dangerous. We hadn’t talked about what this weekend meant, but I didn’t care. Living in this bubble for another day was fine by me.
Christopher wove through the crowd, toward the three sets of double doors that I knew led to the arena-like area where Heather Smith was going to speak. Was he going to try to get us in? I reached out and grabbed his elbow, stopping him with a small smile. “It’s full. I tried already.”
He grinned wider and pulled out two small sheets of paper and handed them to the stern-looking woman wearing a dark-navy blazer at the entrance. The woman took the papers and waved us in, and for a moment, I was dumb struck.
Did he bribe her to get us in? Did he know her? How in the…? People chatted loudly in every direction as seats were filling up, fast. The stage was lit up with lights, and loud music played as a projection showed a countdown from five minutes. “Wait. What were those papers, Callahan? This was full. Totally full. Like we shouldn’t be in here.”
“You wanted to see Heather Smith speak, right?” he asked, crossing his arms over his large chest and looking all sorts of smug with raised brows and his eyes dancing with amusement. “You were talking about it theentiredrive up.”
“Yes, she’s one of my favorites, but how?”
“I asked about it yesterday and got us spots.”
“I could kiss you on the mouth, right now,” I said, jumping up a little bit and letting the shock wear off. “Holy shit, Christopher. This is…thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Gilly.”
My heart about burst in my chest with excitement and appreciation and awe. He did this yesterday. Before we slept together. Before things changed. I grinned up at him and said to hell with it. I grabbed his collar and pulled him down to plant a wet, loud kiss right on his lips. “This is amazing. I can’t believe you did this. I just…let’s get seats!”
He laughed and held my hand—which sent an entirely different array of butterflies through my gut—and we got seats in the center of the tenth row. It was perfect, and large crowds never bothered me. Our thighs touched, and we leaned into each other, and even though it was a conference for teachers, it felt like a date…almost. He smelled like a freshly sharped pencil and my favorite season—fall—and I scooted closer as the lights dimmed and Heather Smith got onto the stage. It was the best damn day, ever.
Hours later,we sat at the hotel restaurant, and Christopher chewed his lip as he studied the menu. We were on a strict budget per diem from the school, and while we had our meals paid for, we couldn’t really get the steak dinner.
“I think I’m going to do the chicken. That’s simple yet filling,” he said, setting the paper down and giving me his full attention. Clear-blue eyes, long lashes that fanned them, and a coy smile always teasing his lips. “What about you?”
“Chicken Caesar salad. I know it sounds dumb, but that is one of my favorite meals.”
“Okay, super-important question. If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? It’d be day and night, forever.”
“Um, what?” I said, laughing and tilting my head as I considered my answer. “Where did that come from?”
“One of my students asked me that before we left, and it’s been on my mind. I said pizza because you could change the toppings each time, but now I’m wondering if I should’ve chosen tacos.”
