Page 77 of Tanner

After April leaves, I finish making sure the apartment is ready for my night in with Tanner. When the bell rings, I buzz him up and wait for him to get up to our floor. The elevator door opens, and I get that whooshing feeling I do whenever I see him after a day apart.

He’s wearing a white T-shirt and faded jeans, a brown leather jacket over his broad shoulders. I don’t have shoes on, so I have to lean up on my tiptoes to greet him.

“Look at you, all cozy,” he says, referring to my yoga pants and T-shirt.

His hands are wrapped around two brown paper bags. I suspiciously eye them.

“I thought we were ordering in?”

“Change of plans. I’m cooking dinner for my girl.” He winks as he walks inside and puts the bags on the counter. “April here?”

“Change of plans. Just us.” I flutter my lashes. “No-go in the bedroom though. House rules.”

He gives me a look like it’s a silly thing for me to have said. “That’s not a problem.”

Out of the bags, he produces two cans of crushed tomatoes, red pepper, zucchini, garlic, a brick of Parmesan, and fresh fettuccini. When he pulls out the bottle of red, I grab two glasses and an opener.

“This is one of the best bottles of wine you’ll ever have.”

I read the label—Chimney Rock Ganymede, Cabernet Sauvignon 2010.

With my eyebrows up in shock, I glance at Tanner. “A wine connoisseur? Tanner Sexton, you are constantly full of surprises.”

He pours me a glass. “When you grow up less than an hour outside Napa, you have the most amazing bottles being poured every day in your house. My dad is a huge wine buff, so I paid attention. He taught me how to appreciate wine and know the difference between a good bottle and a great bottle. This right here … it doesn’t get any better.”

He pours some into two glasses and then smirks at me like he just got an idea. “Want to know the best way to aerate your wine if you don’t have an aerator?”

I laugh out loud. “I don’t even know what aerating is.”

“Some people twirl it around, but if you have the right glasses, like these”—he holds up the glass—“you can do this.”

With wine in the glass, he tips it over to its side, rolling the glass back and forth across the counter. The wine comes directly to the edge but doesn’t spill over.

“That’s fancy,” I tease.

He picks it up and hands me the glass. “A cool bar trick, I guess. You seem surprised.”

We cheers, and then I take a sip.

Wow, that’s smooth.

I kiss him on the cheek. “Learning new things about you is my most favorite pastime.”

Whatever it was that had him confused about me has faded, and his expression is back to relaxed. “I’d like to take you there sometime.”

“Where, Napa?” I ask as I pull out a pot for him to boil water.

“Home. To meet my family.”

I almost drop the pot. “Home?”

“Well, yeah. I’m going to be moving back soon. I can’t bide my time in New York anymore. I’m needed there. I have a job to do.”

I place the pot in the sink and turn on the faucet. I’ve known all this time that Tanner is moving back. He told me the night I first met him. It’s just … the last few weeks have been a whirlwind. I’ve enjoyed my days and nights with him, so much so that I began to pretend he wasn’t going anywhere. Perhaps hoping he’d change his mind.

“Hey,” he whispers softly. He steps behind me and turns the water off. He pushes my hair out of the way, so he can rest his chin on my shoulder, and then he wraps his arms around me. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re not ending.”

Easy for him to say. He’s never had a bicoastal relationship. Neither have I. I had a live-in relationship that I couldn’t even keep. How he plans on us staying together is beyond me.