Something in the way she says it makes me pause.
"You don't have to worry about anything," I assure her. "It's just the guys. No clubs, no random girls, nothing like that."
"I wasn't worried."
"Yes, you were. A little."
"Maybe a little," she admits with a small smile. "Bree kind of messed with my ability to trust situations I'm not part of."
"This trip isn't about that. It's literally just us being idiots on a beach." I cup her face. "Nothing for you to worry about. Don't you trust me?"
"Of course, I trust you."
"Then trust that I'm going to Miami to decompress, not to do anything that would hurt you or us."
"I do trust you.” She bites her lip. "I guess I'm still a little insecure about everything that happened."
"I know. And I get it. But I promise, nothing's going to happen in Miami except me probably getting sunburned and Crew doing something stupid that we'll have to bail him out of."
That gets a small smile. "He does tend to be the chaos element."
"Exactly. So, I'm really doing this for safety reasons. Someone has to keep him from getting arrested."
"Very noble of you."
"I'm practically a saint."
She laughs, and the tension breaks.
"Okay. Go to Miami. Have your guys' trip. But you have to promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise you'll actually decompress. Not just avoid dealing with your dad and hockey and everything else." She looks at me seriously. "Running away from problems doesn't solve them."
"I'm not running away. I'm taking a break."
"Is there a difference?"
"Yes. Running away is permanent. A break is temporary." I kiss her forehead. "I'm coming back. And when I do, I'll deal with all of it. My dad. Dev camp. Everything. I just need a few days to not think about any of it first."
"Okay. I believe you."
"Good. Now go shower. I’m suddenly craving ketchup.”
She laughs and disappears.
We’re okay.
We’ll be okay. We don’t need to spend every minute together like some couples do. We live together. Go to school together. We’re good.
Chapter Seven
SUTTON
Ileft right after my last class on Wednesday afternoon, and traffic was already building as everyone headed out for the holiday. My car's heater barely works, so I'm wrapped in my coat, with Red Clay Strays pumping through my crappy speakers.
Declan texted me before his flight:Wheels up. Miss you already.
