by Anna Cruise
I still wasn't sold. She was beautiful and everyone wanted them to be together. It was hard for me to believe that he didn't want that, too.
But maybe I just didn't see why he'd choose me over her.
“And I came back from that trip all fired up,” he continued. “Wanting to make a difference. I think Marcus indulged me because he didn't think it would last. He thought I'd go try to do this and fail and I'd come home with my tail between my legs and he and Kristen would be there to pick up the pieces. But that isn't what happened. I made it work. I worked my ass off and got that organization off the ground. And Kristen saw what I was doing, the places I was going. She wanted to come with me. It's boring as all hell being a socialite.”
“She seems to like it just fine.”
“She doesn't,” he said. “She was playing a role when you met her. She's wanted to travel but Marcus would have none of it.”
“So how is she going to do your job? If Daddy doesn't approve?”
“Because she finally decided she doesn't give a fuck what he wants,” he said, his voice grim. “And because I found enough donors—for now, anyway—to finally be in a position to not need his money if he pulls out.” He paused. “I don't think he will once she tells him what she's doing, but that's for them to work out.”
He didn't have any reason to lie to me. I went back to my initial thoughts when I'd freaked out over the supposed engagement. He wouldn't have brought me there if that was the case. And he didn't need to make up some story about Kristen to appease me. If he wanted to be with her, he could've just bailed on me because he knew I wouldn't chase after him.
I still had one question, though.
“So where does that leave you?” I asked. “I mean, your organization was your life. It's what you do.”
He ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes. “I know.”
“Then why did you do it? Why did you hand it over to her?”
“I'll still be involved,” he said. “But I'm gonna focus on things stateside. Funding. Establishing more relationships with people who can become long-term donors so that we aren't dependent on one big wallet to make it work.”
“But you like being in the field. Meeting people. Meeting kids.”
“I know,” he admitted. “But I'm tired of living out of a suitcase. And I'm tired of not putting down roots. And I'm tired of saying goodbyes.”
I looked at him.
“To the kids and volunteers I meet,” he said. “It wrecks me every time.” He took a deep breath. “But, most of all, I'm tired of saying goodbye to you.”
My heart caught in my throat and the knots in my stomach twisted even more.
His eyes bore into me. “You act like you're the only one who puts up walls. But I do, too. I have for forever. I've always been alone. And that was the way I wanted it. And yeah, a psychiatrist would say it's because of my past, because I lost my parents. It's me making sure sure no one gets close enough to hurt me. And I made sure I set my life up to accommodate that.” He gave me a thin smile. “Constantly traveling. Never staying in one place too long. It always gave me an excuse to move on, to not get too attached.” He paused. “Until you.”
I had to look away from him because I didn't want him to see the tears that were finding their way into my eyes.
“That night you picked me up?” he said. “There was just this...spark. For me. And it's never left. Even when you've been a massive pain in the ass.”
I turned to him, but he was smiling.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You can be a massive pain in the ass. I'm not gonna pretend otherwise. But so can I. So we match up like that.” He paused. “But there was more. I saw a little bit of me in you. The desire to keep things casual, to keep a distance. The brick walls you throw up every time someone gets too close. That was me, too. I liked that I saw that in you...that I wasn't the only fucked up loser who shied away from commitments. We were compatible like that, you know?”
The nod of my head was barely visible but he saw it.
“And each time I've said goodbye to you, it has sucked,” he said. He drew in a breath and released it. “Both the leaving and the being apart. So I keep coming back. To you. And that's new for me.”
I wiped at my eyes.
“So I don't care about my job and I don't care about Marcus Filmore and I don't care about the travel,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I can set up shop here. Because all I want is you.”
I folded my fingers into his, my tears falling onto my arm. He lifted my chin with his free hand.
“Even if I'm a massive pain in the ass?” I blurted out.
He chuckled, then nodded. “Especially because you're a massive pain in the ass.”
I couldn't find the words. I'd never be able to say it like he did. I didn't talk like that, even if I wanted to. But I think he knew that. Looking at me, I think he knew that.
“So,” he asked. “I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. And all I want is you. I'm choosing you. I just need to know if you choose me.”
I thought of every guy I'd never given a second thought to. The ones I'd run through simply because I was bored and because they were there. The ones I'd used. The ones I'd hidden behind. The ones I'd never cared about.
None of them was like Stuart. And none of them made me feel like he did.
Like I mattered.
I squeezed his hand and smiled at him. “I already did.”
EPILOGUE
August
“What time is his flight?” Sheridan asked.
I glanced at my friend. She was standing next to me, boarding pass in hand, a hot pink roller bag trailing behind her.
“He lands in twenty minutes.”
She nodded. “Funny how the timing worked out.”
It had been. Sheridan was leaving for Anchorage to visit her parents and Stuart was flying in to San Diego. They'd somehow managed to book flights that landed and took off within an hour of each other which meant I could chauffeur them both.
“Looking forward to your trip to the Arctic?” I asked.
Sheridan made a face. “It's still summer there.”
“Barely,” I said, grinning. “It'll probably snow while you're there.”
“It's August, Annika.” She rolled her eyes. “Not January.”
“Still.” I lifted the sunglasses on top of my head and repositioned them. “You're close to the North Pole. Anything could happen.”
“I'll be sure to say hi to Santa for you.” She turned away, checking out the security line, then looked back at me. “You good?”
“Yeah. Me good.”
Sheridan frowned. “You know what I mean. Things are...okay?”
I knew what she was asking. Stuart was coming back to San Diego for the first time in almost a month. He'd shuttled between home and New York, working in a trip to Buenos Aires, too. We'd Skyped and talked on the phone, but it wasn't the same as physically being together. The month since I'd last seen him felt like a year and a tiny part of me was worried that he was going to come back and drop some bomb on me, like he was moving to Afghanistan or some other far-flung place where I wouldn't be.
“Fine,” I said. “Things are fine.”
“You've turned into a terrible liar,” she said, hugging me. “But I get it.” She squeezed me one more time. “I'll check in with you when I get there.”
“You can text from an igloo?”
She showed me her middle finger and merged into the security line.
I checked my phone again for an update on Stuart's flight. The screen said he was five minutes from landing.
I found a seat near his baggage carousel and sat down, scrolling absent-mindedly through my phone. But I wasn't really reading anything. I was wondering what it was going to be like when I saw him. Or, rather, when he saw me.
I'd missed him. A lot. More than I cared to admit. I thought having a date on the calendar when I would see him again would help, but it had just made it harder. I'd watched the cal
endar and the clock, waiting for him. Our phone calls weren't long enough and the Skype connection was never good enough. I missed him.
I crossed my legs and leaned back in the seat. I just wasn't sure he'd missed me the same way. He said he had, but I didn't know if he was just saying that to placate me or because he actually did. I believed him when he said he'd be back. But the time and distance weakened the promise for me, like I couldn't remember that he'd made it.
My phone vibrated in my hand and I looked down.
I'm down. Be there in just a few.
My pulse quickened and I ran a hand through my hair, breathing deeply, trying to steady my nerves.
I sat and waited.
People started streaming through the doors and I watched.
A lady and a toddler rushing to greet a man, who looked to be husband and dad.
A teenager unenthusiastically greeting his mom with a half-hearted wave.
Two guys in suits rushed past without glancing at the baggage carousel, both with phones to their ears.
I sighed and looked down at my phone.
He hadn't texted again. Maybe he'd changed his mind and headed for a different exit, leaving me high and dry so he wouldn't have to face me. Maybe he'd met someone in the jetway and decided to jump on the next flight to Spain with her. Maybe...
“Hey,” a voice said above me.
I looked up.
Stuart was smiling back at me. His hair was tousled and pushed away from his forehead. His nose was slightly sunburned and he wore a long sleeve white linen shirt and khaki cargo shorts and sandals. Looking at his face, I guessed that he hadn't shaved in two days. A backpack was strapped over his shoulder.
I stood and he immediately pulled me to him, kissing me.
Hard.
Butterflies took off in my stomach.
He tilted his forehead against mine. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I wasn't sure if you were coming in or just parking at the curb.”
“I came in with Sheridan,” I said. “And for you.”
“Yeah? I had visions of you not showing up.”
I wasn't going to admit that I'd had the same thoughts. “Please. Why wouldn't I have been here?”
He shrugged, his forehead still against mine. “Month is a long time. Didn't know if you might've changed your mind about this whole long distance thing.”
“I will say I haven't been a fan,” I said, pushing myself into him, wrapping my arms tightly around him. “Of the distance thing.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Me either.”
We stood there for another moment before we disentangled. He grabbed my hand and we walked outside. I shaded my eyes with my hand against the sun.
“Well, it's all done,” he said, as we stood on the sidewalk.
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “All of it. People are in place. Funding is good for awhile.” He turned and smiled at me. “And I have no future flight plans.”
I fought off a smile. “So you're here? For good?”
He set his backpack on the ground next to us and pulled me to him. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “That depends. How long do you want me?”
I looked in his eyes. He was back. Standing next to me. And I felt like I was breathing for the first time since he'd left.
“A week,” I told him.
Stuart raised an eyebrow. “A week? Wow, you're being generous.”
I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “A week in bed.”
“A full week?” His hands splayed across my back and he tilted his head in, his breath warm on my neck. “Not getting up at all?”
“Nope.”
I could feel his smile. “And then what?” he asked.
“That's as far as I've planned,” I said.
“Hmm.” His lips trailed kisses along my neck. “I might have planned a little further out.”
“Oh?”
He nodded.
“Tell me,” I said. “How long?”
“As long as you want me, Annika. I'm here for as long as you want me.”
THE END
ABOUT ANNA
Anna Cruise has been drooling over boys since middle school...and writing about them, too. She hates cliffhangers, is a sucker for nice guys finishing first and revels in happy endings—and not just in books.
Anna grew up on the beaches of San Diego but currently resides in Minneapolis. Most of her writing is done in the winter, since she is pretty sure she's allergic to sub-zero temperatures and tends to hibernate until it's sunny and in the seventies. Her office is her couch and her colleagues are her kids and her sloth-like cats.
With ten books under her belt—and more on the way—she really wishes she'd taken keyboarding in high school. Typing with only three fingers is not terribly efficient.
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BOOKS BY ANNA CRUISE
The Abby & West Series
IT WAS YOU
IT WAS ME
IT WAS US
ALL SHE WANTS
ALL HE WANTS
ANYWHERE BUT HERE
DOWN BY THE WATER
IF I FALL
MAVERICK
SET IN STONE
Keep reading for an excerpt of IT WAS YOU, the book where Annika's story begins...
IT WAS YOU
ONE
The music was too loud, the boys were too obnoxious and there was too much vodka coursing through my body.
I leaned against the wooden railing that led upstairs, trying to both steady myself and focus my vision. The house, a two-story stucco perched on a cliff overlooking the Pacific, belonged to Adam Mularkey. Well, Adam Mularkey's parents. But with a pilot for a dad and a mom who liked to tag along on his trips around the world, they weren't around much to call it home. But my senior class did. It was the go-to party place and, more often than not, there were keggers two or three weekends a month.
This party was different, though.
It was the last week of summer.
Last chance to get drunk, get stupid and hook up.
Not my normal scene, but I was celebrating. I was moving out of the house, ready to start college. I was moving in to my dorm and away from sister.
My twin sister who was somewhere in this house on the cliffs above the beach, doing who knew what. My twin sister who looked exactly like me, even down to the tiny mole above our breasts. My twin sister who I couldn’t stand the sight of.
Annika.
We might be headed to the same college, but at least I wouldn’t be sharing space with her.
Good freaking riddance.
Two girls stumbled past me, one holding up her bikini top as some guy trailed behind her, desperately trying to untie it. Her hair was slicked back and the smell of chlorine assaulted my nostrils as they maneuvered past me. I wondered if they'd been in the pool out back or the hot tub tucked closer to the house. Both girls giggled loudly as they rounded the corner and the guy turned around and winked at me as he followed them, filled with drunken confidence that he’d get that top off. And probably a hell of a lot more.
I scanned the room in front of me. More drunk classmates than I could count. Couples sprawled on couches and backed up against corners. A group of guys—half the basketball team, it looked like—at the dining room table, a half-full bottle of tequila being passed between them. A girl I didn't know standing on the walnut-stained coffee table, gyrating her hips, her thumbs hitched on the spaghetti straps of her white cami, looking like she was debating whether or not to strip it off. A couple of guys catcalled in her direction, urging her on and she smiled, lowering a strap.
I closed my eyes briefly. I couldn’t remember the term from senior English. Hedonistic? That sounded right. That’s what was going on at Adam Mularkey’s beach house the last night of summer.
My equilibrium settled and Tana wa
ved at me from across the room, then wove her way through the crowd in my direction.
“Have you seen him?” she asked, her brown eyes bloodshot. Her breath reeked of tequila and I wondered if she'd sat in with the basketball team for a couple of rounds.
I looked away from her. “Seen who?”
She frowned at me and linked her arm with mine. “Duh. Kevin.”
When I didn't respond right away, she stepped in front of me and narrowed her eyes. “Kevin. Kevin Swigert. Have you had so much to drink that you've forgotten you totally have the hots for him?”
I knew who she meant the first time. “Shut up,” I told her. “Besides, I don’t think he’s here.”
“Oh, he’s here,” she said, grinning. “You need to find him, Abby.”
My tongue felt thick and I was having a hard time forming words with multiple syllables. “He’s not interested.”
She leaned into my ear and her blond tresses tickled my cheek. “Last night of summer. He’s leaving for school in Minnesota. You have nothing to lose.” She held her hand up and made a circle with her hands. “Zero.”
I didn't want to smile but I did. I’d had a crush on Kevin Swigert for about a year. Tall. Blond hair. Green eyes. Lacrosse player. Chest and abs to die for. We shared history class together. Tana had been hounding me for months to throw myself at him.
But we were friends. Nothing more. I couldn’t flirt to save my life, especially with someone as deliciously hot as Kevin. That was one area where my twin and I were decidedly not identical. Annika was a professional where guys were concerned. Fortunately, she’d never shown any interest in Kevin or he probably would have tripped over himself, lining up for her like the rest of the guys in high school.
All of whom she promptly ate up and spit out.
I shook my head, erasing the image of my sister.
“Abby, come on,” Tana said, leaning against my shoulder, more to keep her balance than to be close to me. “If he says no, he says no.”