“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Alice, I’ve thought a lot about what you said yesterday. And I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re wrong.”
“I’m wrong?”
“Yes. That happens sometimes, you know,” he jokes. “Alice, I want you back. I want to be with you. I love you. And love is all we need. What else is there that matters?”
“But how is that going to work?” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “You’re going home to the Bay Area…”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not,” he says. He tilts his head, exposing a mischievous smile.
I stare at him. I have no idea what he means.
“I’m coming back to LA with you. On the same flight as you,” he says, holding up his ticket as proof.
I don’t believe what he says. I look into his eyes. It feels like minutes pass before anyone speaks again. He gives in first.
“I’m going to live in my parents’ old house in Calabasas.”
He lived in that house since he was born until his senior year in high school when his parents moved to the Bay Area. It’s only fifteen minutes away from my parents’ house. It’s a place where we made a million memories. It’s a place that I will always associate with being his home.
“I thought they had sold it,” I say slowly.
“No, they just rented it out. They owned it for so long that they barely had a mortgage on it. And you know Calabasas, the prices went through the roof. They’re getting a ton of money for it in rent.”
I don’t know why he’s telling me all of these details when all I care about is why he’s going back to the LA area.
“Anyway.” Tristan catches himself babbling. “You don’t care about any of that. The only thing that’s important is that the renters just moved out and they were going to put it back on the market, but I asked them if I could stay there for the summer.”
“So, you’re coming back home?” I ask. The word “home” feels both strange and familiar in my mouth. I don’t mean to say it, but Tristan just smiles at me and gives me a wink.
“Yes, I’m coming back home.”
He comes a few steps closer to me.
“That way you don’t have to worry about us being apart this summer, Alice. I want to be with you and I want to spend the summer with you. I love you.”
I inhale slowly. For some reason, tears start to well up in my eyes.
“I thought that you had left without saying goodbye,” I whisper. “I was so mad at you.”
One lonely tear rolls down my cheek. Tristan takes me into his arms. He wipes my cheek with his thumb. His touch sends a warm sensation throughout my body.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m such a jerk.”
“You are,” I say. “But I am, too.”
Slowly, he bends his neck forward. Our lips are so close together that our breaths intertwine. He smells of mint and lavender.
“I love the way your hair smells,” he whispers. “Honey.”
I smile. It’s my new shampoo.
We stare into each other’s eyes. Everyone else in the airport ceases to exist completely. I feel like we’re in one of those scenes in the movies where the whole world spins around the couple and the couple stands still.
And then, just when I can’t wait any longer, Tristan slowly presses his lips onto mine and the whole world explodes in a wild array of colors.
“So, what do you say?” he asks through the kiss. I pull away from him to look into his eyes.
“About what?” I ask, trying to be coy. But the huge smile on my face is exposing my true feelings.
“Will you take me back, Alice Summers? I find myself unable to live without you.”
I make him suffer for a moment. And then say, “Yes.”
Tristan grabs me by the waist and spins me round and round. My feet leave the ground and I feel like I’m a bird, flying high above the clouds. When I finally come back to earth, Tristan gives me one more kiss, takes my hand, and we head toward the check-in line.
Epilogue
Two weeks later – Malibu, California
Carrying two smoothies – mango yogurt and green ginger peach – I make my way back from the smoothie truck toward our spot on the beach. The sand feels warm and relaxing under my bare feet. Warm breeze toys with my summer dress, making the skirt fly up and exposing my little yellow polka dot bikini bottoms. The sky is so high it doesn’t even come close to touching the cliffs of Santa Monica Mountains above me. There isn’t a single cloud in the sky.
The sun is bright and hot and the beach is filled with people on multi-colored blankets. White waves rush toward me, tossing boogie boarders in the surf. Somewhere in the distance, where the water is blue, I see a lone figure sitting on his surfboard.
Tristan.
A second later, he takes on a wave like an expert, dipping his long green board along the waves. He rides one long wave all the way to the edge of the sand. He walks out of the water, holding his board to one side. His gorgeous tan body glistens in the sun accentuating each chiseled muscle. A few steps away from me, he tosses his hair, exposing his sparkling eyes.
“Hey babe,” he says, dropping the board and wrapping his wet arm around me. I’m burning up – not just from the summer heat – and the coolness of his body brings me relief.
“Thanks for the smoothie,” he says, taking a sip. “It’s delicious.”
“Anytime.”
Tristan takes me into his arms and gives me a big kiss with his incredibly soft lips.
“Mmm, salty,” I say after the world around us stops spinning and I finally manage to pull away from him.
After he finishes his smoothie, Tristan puts suntan lotion on my shoulders. His hands are strong and I close my eyes in pleasure. He takes extra care to make sure not to get suntan lotion into my hair.
“You ready?” he asks after I take the last sip of my smoothie.
“For what?”
He pulls my sundress off.
“For what?” I ask again, laughing.
Tristan flashes a smile and winks mischievously. Then, before I know what’s going on, he pulls me up to my feet, tosses me into his arms, and carries me into the waves.
THE END
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