“One last for the road?” she asked softly, a small, hopeful smile tugging at her lips.
Last. The word hit me like a train.
I nodded. She rose onto her toes, pressing her palms gently into my chest to steady herself. Her kiss was soft and just a second long, like she was afraid to ask for more. Like she’d already asked for too much. The second her lips left mine, the absence was immediate and painful.
“Let’s go?” she asked, still inches away. A kind, polite face smiling at me. No trace of the wild, angry, insatiable woman I witnessed yesterday. The one that demanded to be respected, as well as pleasured. Who demanded the painful truth and offered one herself, honest to the bone. In a way, I missed that Hazel. Now it was just this shell of a person, hiding everything inside.
She leaned back, but I placed my palm on the back of her head, stopping her. I rested my forehead on hers, as my fingers slid through her hair.
“Not yet,” I murmured. Hazel closed her eyes, and we stayed like that, enjoying each other’s touch, breathing each other in. I closed the distance and brushed my lips against hers again. Her bottom lip quivered, and I finally felt it.
Ifelther.
Her leaning in more. Her squeezing my arm. The soft moan, I swallowed with pleasure. Her tongue demanding more. Her mouth opening to mine. Everything I was afraid to lose.
“There she is,” I whispered with relief.
My tongue met hers, slow but firm, as I savored the way her lips trembled, the way she gasped softly as I slid my hand to the small of her back, pulling her closer. But no matter how hard she tried to keep herself together, I could feel it in her touch—she was already starting to unravel, unable to hide how much she needed it.
“I was right after all,” I said, grazing her cheek with my knuckles as she raised her eyes to meet me. “You were the best part of the trip.”
Girls often had unspoken expectations that our one-night stands would lead to the love of their lives. Instead of pretending, I’d thanked them for the good times and wished them the best in their future endeavors. They knew what they were getting into, so it wasn’t my fault they felt something that wasn’t there, so I never pitied them. I was always upfront from the start, and that honesty gave me the comforting illusion that I was always the good guy.
But Hazel didn’t ask me to stay, and that broke me more than if she had. She just looked at me, accepting the pain. Not because she believed she deserved it or thought I was a lost cause or simply an asshole (I was, though), but because Hazel understood something most people didn’t: you couldn’t change someone who didn’t want to change for himself. She took what people offered, loving them anyway, even when it was tearing her apart. And somehow, that quiet kind of love hurt worse than goodbye.
On the drive to the airport, she slipped into polite conversation like armor. She laughed at Ethan’s jokes, asked Summer about the villa, offered Norah gum. Her hands moved, but her eyes avoided me. Because I saw her now, in a way no one else ever had. And once you see something that alive, that raw and beautiful, you can’t really unsee it. You can’t pretend it didn’t touch you.
The feelings I had for her terrified me to my bones. And no amount of life before and after this trip would erase the memory of her radiant smile and golden hair glowing in the sun.
Even at the airport, Hazel’s eyes looked everywhere except at me. But once we took off, and the plane engine thundered through my earbuds, her hand found mine. She gave it a gentlesqueeze, calming the storm inside me, and I squeezed back, brushing my thumb across her palm.
Fuck! This wasn’t supposed to happen.
40
Hazel
I kept checking my phone to see if the taxi had arrived. Crowds bustled around in a hurry, people rushing for flights, reclaiming baggage, hugging loved ones. The noise was everywhere, but my mind felt sealed in a glass jar, my heart pounding.
I just needed to give my thank-yous, say our goodbyes, and get out of here. I could feel Luke next to me like gravity, like something pulling at the edge of my ribs, making it hard to breathe.
On the plane, I did everything in my power not to let him see how broken I was. Even when my hand found his on the airplane, knowing he needed comfort more than I needed the distance. Luke had been quiet the entire flight. So was I. Not because there was nothing to say, but because what mattered most had already been said in silence. We both knew this would end eventually.
“Home sweet home, right!?” I turned to him, pasting on a smile too wide. I was trying too hard, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to get this over with. Luke looked at me like he had a million things to say. But he didn’t.
Ask him to stay,a small voice in my head screamed. But what I wanted didn’t matter. He was the one who didn’t want a relationship from the beginning. It would be delusional to mistake that look for anything other than pity. I couldn’t beg. It wouldn’t even have mattered if I did. So I swallowed my hurt.
“It was an amazing trip, Luke. Thank you so much for taking me, I needed the sun and... a little break from life.” I sighed, remembering all my responsibilities at home.
“Of course,” Luke said, forcing a laugh. “It’s me who should thank you. You saved our asses.” I looked toward the exit.
“My taxi is almost here, so I’m gonna go. Thank you again. For everything.” My voice cracked slightly. I had to go. I couldn’t cry, not again. I turned away, but an arm grabbed me, stopping me mid-step.
“Hazel, wait!”
Luke’s arms wrapped around me, his head buried in my neck. I tensed. Why was he doing this? It was already too hard.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “I... I can’t.”
