She nods, taking it back. “We’re going for drinks and small plates tonight at this meze place in Shoreditch. You interested?”
This—right here—is the point with most of my awkward acquaintances where I’d normally say no. A polite but firm “Thankssomuch for offering, but I’m exhausted and should probably rest up. I wouldn’t want to bring the group down!” Part of me wants to play out the old song and dance out of fear, and anxiety, and my introverted belief that I don’t need anyone new. But this time, I have to say yes. Ihaveto give myself a fighting chance at friendship here, push myself into scary waters. I came this far. It’s what Charlotte would want me to do.
Home is something you build.
“I’d like that,” I say. “Text me the details.”
Outside, I push past the text readingjada <3 go auburn!!to pull up Find My Friends. Hands shaking, I wait for the app to load.
Alex’s contact saysLocation Unavailable.
Which means he either (a) doesn’t want me to know he’s here or, (b) doesn’t have an international phone plan. Optimistically I’m hoping for the latter, but realistically it’s the former. Alex Harrison wasraisedon international phone plans.
Still, there is a nettlesome thump in my heart all the way back to my hotel. I have no reason to believe Alex will be there. I also have no reason to believe that my heart has been yanked out and stuffed with magnets instead. But in the lobby, I admit to myself I’m looking for his unruly mop of black hair about a fraction of a second before I see it.
He’s dressed in a gray Patagonia coat that’s too lightweight for this weather, and the same jeans and tennis shoes we went hiking in a few days after Christmas. Ganier Ridge, the hike was called. That day, the wind blew his hair back from his forehead in one smooth sweep, but today it’s been tugged in every direction. He’s wringing his hands in knots, seated on the edge of an ottoman, staring at the floor so intently I’m convinced he’s counting the stains on the Persian rug. There is a mostly empty weekender bag beside his feet.
“Alex?”
His head snaps up. That’s when I see the bruisy half-moons under his eyes. The shadow of his stubble is more pronounced than I’ve ever seen it. He stands in one smooth movement, then pushes a hand to his forehead like the motion made him dizzy.
“Hi,” he says as he takes a step toward me. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful. How—”
I back away. Alex frowns and goes still, not coming any closer.
He should have warned me. This isn’t fair. I’m too vulnerable right now, doing my best to adjust, and Alex knows it.
“Two days ago, my phone fell in the toilet,” he tries again. “At the office.”
“Your…” My head tilts. “The toilet.”
“Yeah,” he articulates, but all I really acknowledge is how much I missed the sound of his voice. “I tracked you because you weren’t at the all-hands meeting Wednesday. And I saw you were already here, which kind of took me by surprise enough to drop my phone in the fucking toilet.”
I frown. “What took you by surprise?”
He blinks at me. Blinks again. “That you moved up your flight.”
“No, I didn’t,” I mutter.
Alex takes another step forward. This time, I hold my ground, keep my eyes on his.
“The last Monday in January, Case. That’s the day you said you were leaving. Ten at night on Monday during the last week ofJanuary. That’s three days from now. I was going to go all the way to the airport with you. I wanted to be the first person you called when you landed. When I realized you’d left without me, I got on the literal first flight I could.”
I open my mouth, close it again. I’m too fixated on the second part of what he said to wrap my head around the first. “I guess…” I rub my forehead. “I guess I meant the last Monday of January according to Little Cooper’s fiscal calendar. Which was four days ago.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds, dumbfounded at the misunderstanding.
Alex’s mouth pulls into the outline of a smile, some of the strain eclipsed by it. “You would have meant that.” A laugh slips through his teeth. “I honestly should have known.”
I muster an equally thin smile for about two point five seconds before it falls back off my face. “Did you come all the way here to say goodbye?”
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” Alex murmurs, closing the distance between us. “Never did. I needed space, but not a whole ocean of it.” His voice digs in, deep,straining.“I fuckingloveyou, Casey.”
I press a hand to his chest, trying to put aside the feeling of the pounding heart beneath it. “Okay. But we can’t just ignore—”
“I know.” Alex shudders against me, his eyes sweeping over my neck and lips. “I know it wouldn’t have been right for me to come here if I hadn’t done some reflection first.” He pauses. “I met with Robert.”
I refocus. “You did?”
