Miss you.
Marco
I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.
Heat flooded through me. I typed back.
Étienne
Good. Because I’ve been thinking about it too.
Marco
Can’t wait for you toget back.
Étienne
Same
We texted back and forth for another hour. Nothing important, really. Just talking. The kind of conversations we’d always had, but different. Weighted with new meaning. With the knowledge of what we were to each other.
Eventually, I had to sleep. Early flight in the morning.
Étienne
Goodnight. See you tomorrow.
Marco
Night. Fly safe.
The flight home felt endless.
I’d never been this impatient to get back from a road trip. Usually, I was tired, ready to rest, maybe grab something to eat on the way. Today, all I wanted was to get home. To Marco.
We landed around one. I grabbed my bag, said quick goodbyes, and drove home faster than I probably should have.
My Jeep was barely in park before I was out, grabbing my bag, and heading for the door.
It opened before I could reach it.
Marco stood there on his crutches, smiling, and my stomach cartwheeled.
I dropped my bag on the porch and crossed the distance between us in three strides. He steadied himself against the doorframe as I reached him, and then I was pulling him close, careful of his foot but needing to touch him, to hold him, to confirm he was real and there and mine.
“Hey,” he said softly, leaning into me.
“Hey.” I buried my face in his neck, breathing him in. “Missed you.”
“It was less than twenty-four hours.”
“Still too long.”
He laughed, and I felt it vibrate through his chest into mine. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Don’t care.” I pulled back enough to see his face. “How’s your foot?”
“Same as it was yesterday. How was the flight?”
