by Geneva Lee
“Yes, but it’s for a pathetic reason,” I warned her.
“You’re looking for Gavin,” she guessed.
“He hasn’t been into work all week. I was pretty mad at him.”
“That I know,” she said. “It’s been like a morgue here. I had to force him to eat and shower.”
“Really?” Okay, so I sounded a little too excited about that. It was just good to know that he hadn’t run off to marry a Las Vegas showgirl or something.
“I think he’s on his way to Friday Harbor,” she told me. “He said he just needed to get away and think and he took a bag. I could check to see if he filed a flight plan.”
“When did he leave?” I forced myself to ask.
“About ten minutes ago.”
There wouldn’t be time to wait for her to call. He’d be on his way to the airfield. My stomach sank, but I realized that I still stood a chance if I left right now. “Do you think I could catch him?”
“Traffic’s murder down here. If you run, you might make the plane.”
I hung up with a quick goodbye and a promise to go out for drinks soon. Gavin was leaving—flying. My stomach did a nose dive, but I ignored it. I didn’t have time to let my nerves get the best of me. If he was going to Friday Harbor, I would go with him. I’d go wherever he went, so long as we could finally talk.
Gavin was a little bit closer to the airfield than I was, since I was coming from the east. I was still in my work clothes and heels, and I had maybe a quarter of a tank of gas left. Friday night traffic would slow him down. Plus, there was the fact that Gavin was a cautious driver. I drove like a bat out of hell. The odds weren’t in my favor, but it wasn’t a lost cause.
Traffic was as terrible as I expected. My filter wasn’t working, so I was well aware of the terrible things I was yelling at other drivers as I tried to manipulate my way through the gridlock. It was a little less than 8 miles from the condo to the private airfield. In Seattle driving conditions, it would take me approximately the rest of my life to get there.
I laid on the horn, flipped on my turn signal, and darted over into another lane that was moving faster. Gavin only had to go from his apartment downtown to the airfield, which according to my GPS was less than 2 miles. Still, Imogen had said the traffic was terrible in her part of town. It was the only hope I had and I clung to it like a life raft.
Given the later hour, the airfield was mostly deserted, except for some flight crews, who glared at me as I flew past them in my Toyota and drove toward the hangers.
I spotted Sound One waiting for her turn to taxi down the runway.
Jumping out, I didn’t bother to turn off the car, only then realizing I hadn’t changed out of my heels. I kicked them off and started to run. I made it to the plane as the propeller started to rotate. Yanking open the passenger door, I hauled my ass inside. Gavin’s hands rested on the controls and he whipped around in surprise. I couldn’t hear him, even though his lips were moving. A few seconds later, the engines began to die, and I realized he wasn’t going to take off. That was a relief. If I’d had to make the flight in my bare feet with no barf bag, I would have. But it wouldn’t have been my first choice.
Gavin unbuckled and jumped out of the plane, tossing his headphones onto the seat. I opened the door and realized how hard it was going to be to get out with no shoes on, when he appeared on my side of the plane.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.
I had no idea how many safety regulations private pilots had to follow, but I got the sense I’d just broken every one of them.
“I don’t want you to leave.” I said. “Not just because I don’t want to have to stay in this plane and fly with you to have this conversation, but because I miss you. And I need you. And I love you.”
Gavin’s head fell forward, obscuring his face momentarily before he reached up, his lips twitching slightly, and lifted me out of the plane.
“Is that so?” he asked, as he set me on my feet. Frowning at my lack of shoes, he lifted me again slightly so that my feet were on his and not the hot tarmac.
“I love you,” I repeated. It seemed like the most important right now. Not my shoeless state or that I’d nearly caused him to crash on the runway. None of it seemed to matter as much.
“I knew that the second you got on the plane,” he murmured. He still wasn’t looking at me, but his hands held my hips tightly as if he wouldn’t—couldn’t—let me go.
“I understand if you have to go think about things,” I said in a small voice. “But I couldn’t let you leave without you knowing how I felt.”
“What do you want?” he asked.
“You,” I said without question.
“Are you sure? You didn’t seem like you wanted me the other day.” He looked up, his blue eyes shining with pain. He was still hurt, despite my declaration. I couldn’t blame him for that. I’d put him through the wringer. We’d put each other through it.
“This is new,” I said slowly as I gained confidence. “It scares me a little. I didn’t want people to think that the reason I got a job was because I was seeing you. I wanted to feel like my accomplishments were my own.”
“Cassie,” he said, shutting his eyes for a moment, as if he was shouldering a heavy burden. When he reopened them his gaze locked on mine. “Let me make something clear to you. I built NorthWest Investments. It means the world to me. You mean more. I would rather have you. If you want to leave your own mark, then I’ll be by your side while you do it. If you want to do it together, then we can start something new. But you can’t sabotage us. You can’t second-guess us. Have faith in us.”
He added softly, “I do.”
“Sometimes I’m a neurotic, crazy bitch,” I confessed to him. He started to shake his head, an involuntary, instinctive reaction to hearing a woman say that about herself, no doubt. “Seriously, if you understood the amount of analysis and self-doubt I deal with every day, you wouldn’t be surprised when I did something completely insane, like trying to wreck the best thing that ever happened to me. I promise that I’ll try to do better if you promise to have a little patience with me when I falter. Oh, and also, to let me know before you make major life decisions for us.”
“Telling everyone that we’re together is a joint life decision?” he asked. I thought I saw a smile creeping onto his lips.
“Hell yes, it”— I began, but his mouth was on mine before I could continue my tirade. He kissed me deeply. It was full of longing and apology and hope and promise. All the doubts, all the fear, all the second-guessing vanished instantly. In his arms, I had my answer.
When we finally broke apart, Gavin’s eyes searched mine. “Then I guess I better tell you this.”
I raised a questioning eyebrow. Whatever it was I could handle it as long as I was here in his arms.
“I love you, Cassie Hart. I’m not going anywhere. I want you. I don’t want easy. I want crazy and neurotic and brilliant and clever and kind. I want you.”
“I want you, too,” I whispered.
He kissed me again, more softly this time. I knew it would be the first kiss of a lifetime shared together, so when he took my hands and glanced at the plane, I wasn’t scared when he asked, “Where do you want to go?”
Because I’d reached my decision. “With you.”
Epilogue
May
“Cassandra Marie Hart.”
I walked up the stairs toward the stage, hoping I didn’t step on my graduation gown. Why had I chosen such impractical shoes? It was a serious character flaw. I paused as the Dean handed me my diploma, looking out into the crowd I spotted my family. They weren’t hard to find, because despite the admonishment at the beginning of the ceremony to wait for applause until everyone had walked, they were screaming and cheering. Gavin was smashed into a seat between my dad and my mom. He wasn’t cheering—following rules—but he didn’t have to, his face was filled with pride. I gave them an embarrassed wave and trekked down to the other side of th
e makeshift platform.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Jillian received her diploma a few dozen people later. She stopped and did the rock ’n roll sign to her people, probably in a move to see if she could ruffle her mother’s feathers. Jess was the last of us to officially graduate, since she’d hyphenated her name. I cheered for each of them. We’d gotten through this.
Together.
My girls joined me in the waiting area off the stage as the rest of the class was called. I wrapped my arms around each of them, giving them a big hug. In some ways this with the end of an era. We’d all be going off to do our own thing soon. Jess was headed off to Oregon to medical school at a university that had a position available for Roman. Jillian was going even farther. I didn’t want to think about the distance that would soon be between the three of us. Or how I wouldn’t be able to see them every day. Our lives were starting. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. But I knew that no matter what, they would be a phone call or a plane ride away.
“We did it,” Jess said with a shriek. It was uncharacteristically giddy of her. I knew how she felt.
“And I didn’t fall on my face,” I told them.
“And I didn’t throw up!” Jillian said, equally excited.
Jess looked back at the stage and out to the quad where the ceremony had taken place. She smiled softly and said so only we could hear, “We survived.”
When Gavin had told me that he had planned a graduation party, I hadn’t expected this. Neither had Jillian parents, judging from the grim look on Tara’s face. Of course, that might have something to do with Jillian’s other bit of news. My own parents had already come and gone, tired from their red eye flight into town this morning. Cheesy Pete’s was only for the intrepid adult on a weekend night.
“I’m going to get another pitcher,” Roman announced, getting up from the table.
“Will you get me a water?” Jillian asked him.
It wasn’t even a question. We were all fawning over her at the moment.
Liam stood up to join him. “I’ll come and help.”
“How many men does it take to get a pitcher of beer?” Jess joked.
“I miss beer,” Jillian grumbled and I gave her a sympathetic frown.
Gavin was off somewhere, too. Probably paying the obscene bill for the insane amount of food our party had scarfed down. He’d rented out the entire arcade. Somehow spending the evening with my best friends and my family together, drinking beer, and playing Skee-Ball was the perfect way to wrap up my college life and start my adult one.
“Is that what Roman gave you for graduation?” Jillian craned to see the locket that Jess was wearing. She nodded and held it away from her neck so that we could inspect it. “It was his grandmother’s.”
“That’s so sweet,” Jillian said. With a sigh, she patted her stomach. “All Liam gave me was this.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t have something to do with that.”
“Oh, I did,” she said smugly.
“How did Tara handle the news?” Jess asked, glancing over her shoulder as if Tara might appear like Bloody Mary when her name was mentioned.
“She turned ten shades of red.” Jillian smiled, as if this memory pleased her.
“She turned purple,” Liam corrected her, taking the chair next to his fiancée. “I thought she might have had an aneurism.”
“She’s upset that we aren’t married,” Jillian explained. “It doesn’t matter that I decided to have a baby while my body still could. Nope, it’s more important that she gets to plan a wedding.”
“Hey, I asked you to marry me,” Liam said defensively.
“And I said yes!” Jillian laughed and leaned over to kiss him, wiping the disgruntled look from his face instantly.
“You still haven’t done it,” he said, as he took the hand that wore his ring.
“I’m not getting married while I’m fat.”
“You aren’t fat, you’re pregnant,” Jess and I said at the same time.
“The wedding can wait until after the baby,” she said, putting an end to the matter. “We’re just going to be nontraditional. Jess could deliver the baby!”
“Medical school is a bit longer than nine months,” Jess said dryly. She elbowed me in the side. “What did Gavin get you?”
I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing. “A key to his place.”
The unofficial proclamation was met with ohhhhhs!
It had kind of been an expectation at this point. I’d spent the last year finishing up my classwork in Olympic Falls and spending my weekends with him in the city. In fact, almost every Friday night we’d been here, blowing off steam, playing Skee-Ball, and getting reacquainted with each other after a long week of work and school. I’d been nervous to bring up what would happen after graduation, all the same. I hadn’t wanted to assume that he wanted me to move in with him, even after I took the job in the PR department at NorthWest Investments.
“She couldn’t afford a place of her own,” Gavin said, joining us with a wink. “Not with what her terrible boss pays her.”
“It’s more than I made last year,” I joked.
“Last year, you only made him,” Jillian pointed out. I threw a wadded up napkin at her.
Our families didn’t last as long as we did. Probably because none of us were quite ready to leave. Not just this place, but this part of our lives. As the evening wore on, our group dwindled. Jillian was the first victim. Her ankles had swollen during the graduation ceremony and despite the fact that she was barely showing, she found it hard to play most of the games.
“I’m taking you home to bed,” Liam said finally, when she began to stretch her arms over her head and yawn.
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said coyly.
“I didn’t ask, chicken,” he said mischievously. He was on his feet, helping her out of her chair a moment later. We all stood to give her hugs goodbye.
“Call me tomorrow,” she whispered in my ear.
I still had so much to talk about with her before she left for Scotland next week. I couldn’t believe that she’d chosen there. The selfish part of me had hoped that Liam and her would choose to live in Washington, but I knew they had their reasons for going to Scotland. I hugged her extra tightly and promised I would call.
They’d made it halfway to the entrance before Liam stopped and scooped her up into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, obviously too tired to even make it to the parking lot.
“I think that’s our cue,” Jess said apologetically as she and Roman gathered their things. He’d won her a large, stuffed chili pepper out of a claw machine.
I jumped up and caught her in a giant hug. She pulled back, laughing. “I don’t leave for another month.”
“And we’ll only be three hours away,” Roman reminded me. “Plus, I promise to take good care of her.”
“Don’t let her work too hard,” I said, afraid that at any moment I would start to cry.
“I’ll try, but no promises.” Roman reached out to take his wife’s hand and she pressed herself against him, giving him a swift kiss on the lips. They were like night and day, her blonde with skin pale from being back under Washington’s lack of sun, and him dark-haired and olive-skinned—complete opposites and a perfect match.
“Call me tomorrow,” Jess said with a wicked smile. Apparently, my best friends wanted to make sure that we spent as much time as possible together before we all went our separate ways.
“And then there were two,” I said to Gavin, as we looked down at our empty table, cluttered with plates and cups.
The bartender that had been slinging drinks for our party appeared and grabbed an empty pitcher. “Last call.”
“I think we’re good,” Gavin told him. Turning to me, he held up his gameplay card. “Up for one final game of Skee-Ball.”
“I’ll kick your butt,” I promised him.
“Of that, I have no doubt.”
&
nbsp; Since we spent so much time here, my game had gotten even better. Even Gavin couldn’t pretend to hold a candle to my mad Skee-Ball skills. We each took a spot at our favorite machines and Gavin swiped the cards. The balls rolled down the chute, racking in a familiar, comforting way.
“I bet you that I can get you a top shelf prize,” he said, recalling the deal we’d made during our first, unofficial date.
My lips twisted into a smirk. “You never learn.”
It was my highest-scoring game ever. I didn’t even pay attention to what Gavin was hitting, but given the number of hundred pointers I racked up, I knew there was no way he could keep up. When the final ball dropped into the fifty-point rung, I jumped back and looked up to check my score.,
Except there was no score. Had the stupid machine not been tracking my all-time greatest-ever Skee-Ball round? Then I realized the scoreboard was scrolling a message, not a score.
Will…
You…
Marry…
Me?
The question continued to scroll across the board and I continued to stare at it. After I regained my motor functions from the shock, I looked to Gavin. He was on one knee with a plastic prize capsule in his palm.
“Is that a top shelf prize?” I asked weakly.
“Open it find out,” he suggested, his eyes as bright blue as a clear day.
I took the prize from him and popped off the plastic lid with shaking hands. Inside, tucked into a flimsy piece of foam, was a brilliant diamond solitaire. I looked down at him, my eyes shining with tears.
“Will you marry me, Cassie?” he asked, his own voice rough with emotion.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly.
Gavin stood and took the ring, sliding it on to my finger.
It fit perfectly.
Reaching for him, I took his face in my hands and drew it down to mine. Our lips sealed the commitment we just made to one another, our bodies beginning to press urgently together. I finally remembered where we were and pulled away. “Ever done it on a Skee-Ball machine?”