It had been time to fly.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jameson
Brooklyn felt enormous compared to Santa Gertrudis, because of course it was. I knew the facts about the area, just like I knew the history of most of the buildings. My course was everything that I’d hoped, the apartment more than I’d imagined. For the first couple of weeks, Gav had stayed with me, doing his helicopter parent thing, trying to sort out furniture and loading my bank account with more cash than I needed. What had happened had scared him more than anyone it seemed, and his reaction was to overreact, which was cute for the first few days, then it became irritating.
When he’d finally left to go back to London, via Ibiza to see Livi, I’d breathed a sigh of relief. Before feeling utterly lost.
Tommy remained at the back of my mind for the first few weeks. Everything was shiny and new, and I relished in being back in a city. I didn’t miss the sea or the sand, and the amount of time I spent on the phone to Lala meant I didn’t miss her as much as I’d thought either. I was also used to being on my own in new cities – it was what I’d done for the last couple of years.
But I missed Tommy.
Every cocktail bar I walked past made me wonder how he was and where he was. Whether he left the island or whether he chose to stay. I wondered if he’d met anyone else, and then tried to ban that thought as it led to jealousy I had no right to have. It was a summer romance, and everyone knew summer romances would burn out by autumn.
Regret wasn’t there. I was always going to come here, but there were days I wished I’d stayed longer, when I wished we’d talked more about what happened. And there were nights when I wished we’d had more time to find out whether that chemistry would’ve withstood the storms that more time would’ve inevitably brought.
I made a couple of friends with people on my course, heading out for drinks with them a few times a week, or to get something to eat. There was one evening when I’d gotten home from college earlier than normal I could’ve sworn I’d seen Tommy across the road from my apartment, a man with his build and hair entering a building that had been up for sale.
I’d frozen and stared, wondering if, hoping it was, him.
Two weeks later, I’d left my apartment to meet my new girl friends for drinks, and I knew I hadn’t been delusional.
A sign was over the front of the building, a wooden sign which looked like it could’ve been washed up on a beach before someone had restored it.
Burned into it, in the same spiky font I’d looked at so many times was its name.
Còctels
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, ignoring the people passing who shook their heads as I blocked their way. I was spellbound by that sign.
I had no idea how long I stood there; my feet planted in the asphalt. A comment from a passer-by made me move, somehow cross the road without being run over and then I was outside it, looking at the tables that had been put outside, ready for customers, ready to serve those drinks to the pretty ladies and handsome men looking for a good night.
I pushed down the handle to the door and walked inside, the interior reminding me of Ibiza with its bright prints and fabrics, things I recognised from the Hippie Markets. When I looked at the bar, I saw Tommy standing there, that smirk on his face, as if he was asking why it had taken me so long.
I didn’t know what to say. I had no words left, just tears in my eyes that I knew there was no chance of stopping from flooding down my face.
Somehow I ended up in his arms and being hoisted onto the bar, his lips on mine in a hard kiss followed by more hard kisses and hands that seemed desperate for touch.
“You’re here.” I found my voice. “You came to New York.”
“I followed a girl I had a summer fling with.” Dark eyes danced with lust and passion and something else. “Thought I’d see if she wanted to try a winter romance in a different city. See how things went.”
I pressed my lips to his, starting a kiss that lasted longer than any kiss not behind a locked door should.
“What if…”
“What if it doesn’t work? What if this fizzles out? What if I’m madly in love with you and I want to try anyway.” His voice was gruff. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll be invisible while I set my business up and move on.”
“No. No. I do want you here. I just never thought you’d come. I never even dreamed you would.”
“Maybe you were one of Es Vedra’s sirens in a previous life.”
“Maybe you were some poor, easily enchanted sailor.”
“Maybe we just take a chance.”
“Maybe we do.” I thought of what he’d just said. “Do you mean it?”
