Stay a Little Longer

by Dawn Lanuza

  She felt saddened by how she did this. She did her fair share of self-sabotage before, but this one just took the cake. She made herself miserable. Even made him miserable. She would need to make it up to him so bad. “There were times I wished I could have just stopped. Called you. But maybe a part of me knew that it had to be more than a call.”

  “A call is preferred. A smoke signal is more than welcome. Morse code is accepted.”

  She laughed.

  “So you flew back?”

  “Well, Sarge.”

  “I heard,” he said quietly. “Although, to be honest, I didn’t really expect you to come.”

  She took a deep breath, “I know, I’m surprised myself. But I feel sad.”

  He looked down at her, letting his hand brush the hair at the top of her head.

  “He was just Sarge, you know?” Her brows met, not sure where she was going. “He didn’t do anything specifically malicious toward me. I think I just sort of hated him ’cause he represented things about the whole town that I didn’t like.”

  Elan eased the wrinkle between her brows with his thumb.

  “Then I just feel bad,” Caty continued, “because when I got the call about his funeral, I saw it mainly as an opportunity to get back here and see my family. See you. Does that make me awful?”

  He smiled. “Makes you human.”

  “An awful one.”

  He laughed, and that made her feel as if it was all right to laugh too.

  “So yeah, I came home and thought maybe when I was here I could figure out how to fix the mess I made,” she explained. “I wasn’t really thinking this would happen.”

  “You weren’t? I could have saved you a lot of time.”

  Caty rolled her eyes. “Oh, ’cause sex solves everything?”

  “It doesn’t, but it helps with the frustration,” he joked.

  “How come you didn’t try to call me?” Caty asked.

  Elan’s laughter subsided, his face pulling into a frown. “Hang on. For the record, I didn’t need you to do something more for me. I just needed you back.”

  “I thought about calling you. Tried to go through with it, but I thought you wouldn’t like it if I did it too quickly. Might push you further away if I insisted. So I stepped back.”

  She thought about it and agreed. He really did understand her, despite spending so little time together. He was learning about her the whole time, while she kept convincing herself to reduce their relationship to nothing even when it was so important.

  “I figured I could just talk to Lucian.”

  “What? How?”

  Elan licked his lips. “Not every day. Just to see if you’re doing all right. I called Riot! and asked for Lux.”

  She paused, her mouth agape. “You’re serious.”

  “Made friends with that bartender. Jordan?”

  Caty bit her lip.

  “Did he really give you a free drink, or was I paying for nothing?”

  She covered her face with her hands. “Oh my god.”

  “Hey.” Elan wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Sorry. Was that too much?”

  It was not. He had respected her space and allowed her to come to terms with it herself while he stood by. Caty kept her face covered. “You were doing all that even when you were mad?”

  He didn’t answer right away, so she peeked at him through her fingers. He laughed and pulled her hands off her face. “I was mad, but not at you, really. I was mad at the circumstances. And that’s hardly a reason for me to care about you less.”

  She caressed his face as she leaned in, her forehead touching his. So patient. Like he said. “Thanks. That’s . . . it’s what I needed.”

  “So? Catch me up. Lucian was very brief with me.”

  She suspected this was because Lucian was being loyal to her, and she felt a pinch in her heart, missing him already. “It’s not like I did a lot in that time. A month isn’t that long.”

  “It was hell.”

  “I found a better coffee place. I started walking Hans’s dog. And I shot some things for my friend Clara’s website.” Caty continued, “If it makes you feel better, I kinda hated it too.”

  That’s when he propped himself up and looked at her. “You had a shoot? How did that go?”

  “Well,” she paused, “I haven’t heard from her yet. But I haven’t checked my e-mail since I got here.”

  She was about to say something else, but he grabbed her face and kissed her hard, as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour kissing her. As if he never tired of it. “Check it now.”

  “Are you serious?” Caty bit her lip. “You want me to check my e-mail?”

  Elan nodded.

  “Way to kill the postcoital bliss.”

  “Just do it.”

  Caty leaned in to kiss him, and he obliged, but it was softer, tender.

  “Okay.” She cleared her throat. “But if I get bad news, you’re gonna make up for it.”

  “Gladly.” Elan rolled away so she could find her phone.

  “Jeans?” he asked.

  “Purse,” she answered.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s still right by the door.”

  “Can I walk around here naked? No creepy neighbors?”

  Elan sat up. “Go for it. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

  “I’m sure,” she snorted. Caty ran out of the room, and her purse was right where he said it would be by the door. She joined him under the covers.

  She opened her e-mail. It took awhile to load, but when it did, there was a message from Clara. She tapped on it and began reading.

  After awhile, he stroked her arms, and she figured it was because she hadn’t said anything. She read the e-mail twice before she looked up at him. “Clara wants to work with me for a few more shoots, and there’s an event she wants me to attend so she can introduce me to more people.”

  Elan pulled her in when she said, “Yay,” or something like that. “That’s great.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, settling down, letting her head slide back to his chest. “That is good.”

  “When is it?”

  Caty winced.

  “Let me guess. You actually have to be at the airport in about . . .” Elan checked the time.

  “Stop.” She hit him playfully, but the short deadline seemed likely given the fact that they always left each other after a day. But she was already ready to e-mail Clara to let her know where she was. “It’s in two weeks.”

  “So you really have to go back to New York.”

  “Do you think I should just . . . stay?”

  “Weren’t you at home in New York?”

  “Maybe I’m not. You made me hate the city.” Caty frowned.

  Elan’s brows met. “You don’t hate New York.”

  “I do now,” she said quickly, trying to hide that crack in her voice. “I hate that you’re not there.”

  “Hey, I hate it too,” Elan added, and that didn’t help either. She hated how being in New York meant he couldn’t be next to her, that he couldn’t put his arms around her, like this. “But you love New York.”

  “I can love other things too,” she reasoned. “I think New York is rejecting me.”

  “That’s ridiculous; how can anyone reject you?”

  She gave him a look.

  He remembered the first time they met and how that went. “You’re really not gonna let that one go, are you? How many times do I have to make it up to you?”

  “For the rest of your life,” Caty decided. She liked the sound of that. His whole life attending to her. “Just kidding. You’ve made it up to me plenty. Though I don’t mind being made up to.”

  “Noted.”

  “But New York. I think we’re not compatible after all.”

  “It’s only been a
couple of months,” Elan reasoned. “And if there’s anything you need to take away from our first night, it’s that you always end up winning people over. I wasn’t sure about you that day we met, but you pretty much never left my mind after that night.”

  “Because you blew it, that’s why. It was all about your ego—admit it.”

  “It was not,” he answered. “New York can’t be that heartless. It’ll warm up to you.”

  “If I go back to New York, we’re back to square one,” Caty pouted. “Look, I’m not gonna lie to you. I don’t like long-distance relationships.”

  “Are there people who like them?”

  “Be serious for a minute. I really—I can’t keep talking to you on the phone.”

  “I know,” he said quickly. “But our problem wasn’t just that we live in different continents.”

  “Oh?”

  “The problem was that we hadn’t even decided what this is,” Elan explained.

  “And we have now?”

  He propped himself up with his elbows and teased, “Oh, don’t be dense.”

  Caty pinched him.

  “We’re in love, aren’t we?” He sat up, suddenly serious.

  So she sat up too, clutching the sheets. “Yeah?”

  “And we want to be together.”

  “Yeah.” That, she wanted. She wanted it so bad.

  “Do you still think you’re gonna change your mind about me?”

  She paused, thought about it, then shook her head. “I don’t think my mind decides these things anymore.”

  His brows met.

  Caty bowed her head and laughed, “Coming up here to see you almost felt instinctive. A bit primal. I don’t know. I just feel it; I can’t describe it.”

  “I know.” Elan leaned in, cupped her face, and kissed her again. He rolled her on her back and made her understand that he knew what she meant in this language.

  Urgency. She had that.

  When he pulled back, she sighed, bit her swollen lip, and then said, “So we go wherever the other one goes. Eventually.”

  Eventually. She took in the word, let it run through her and settle. Elan didn’t say anything while she pondered.

  “You know that sooner or later, we’re gonna have to really sit down and sort this all out, right?”

  “Yes,” Elan nodded.

  “It’s gonna get boring.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Never with you, though.”

  “Would you consider living elsewhere?” Caty asked.

  “Sure.”

  “But this has always been home for you.”

  Elan shrugged. “I’m starting to think home really isn’t a place. Not particularly. It’s a feeling. I think home is with you.”

  “That’s weird. I thought the same thing earlier. Are we being rash?”

  “Could be,” Elan answered.

  Caty pursed her lips. “Not helpful.”

  Elan reached over to her, rubbed her arms with his hand. “Let’s see. Two people met. They got to know each other.”

  “Sure, if that’s what you want to tell people. Let’s keep it PG.” She shifted to lay her head on his chest.

  He laughed, squeezed her shoulder as he rested his chin on her head. “They fell in love, so they chose to be together.”

  She kissed his chest and smiled. “When you put it that way, doesn’t seem irrational at all.”

  “We could just be the smartest people in the world.”

  nineteen

  They’d been here before.

  The first time they met. She was asleep in the passenger seat, and he had to wake her up, Elan remembered. It wasn’t that long ago. He’d stared at her while she slept, trying to figure out how to wake her up. What to do after that.

  How to say goodbye.

  Maybe he was just struggling to let her go.

  Today wasn’t so different. She looked out the window as they drove. It was a quiet drive, but it wasn’t awkward. They’d learned how to sit in silence comfortably and not be concerned about filling it.

  He reached for her hand at times, and she would take it, cradle it in her lap, press her cheeks against it.

  They’d had two weeks. It was the most time they had spent together since they met. She stayed in his apartment when he went to work, did some of her work on his laptop, made a mess of rearranging his apartment when ideas struck her, even in the middle of the night. He loved it.

  Elan adored seeing her bent down, completely absorbed in her projects. He loved to sit back and watch her do her thing, and he welcomed her back whenever she was ready.

  And when she came back to him, he felt it so. Caty gave him the same attention she did with her work—doting on him and making sure he was all right.

  He was more than all right.

  Elan was great. He was happy, as much as that word could mean. He had dreaded the day she had to leave again, but surprisingly he felt all right.

  When they reached the airport terminal, he parked on the side and faced her.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked.

  She was asking him, again, when it really should be him asking her. “Are you?”

  Caty rolled her eyes. “You’re putting this all on me.”

  “I’m not,” Elan reasoned.

  “I’m just saying,” Caty started, “if we broke up because of this—”

  “We’re not breaking up. You need to stop thinking of that as a default. We’re not breaking up. Okay?”

  She smiled sheepishly. “Yes, okay, sorry. Not breaking up, new default, programming myself with it.”

  “I’m sure. You need to go back to New York,” he repeated, even though it felt as if they’d gone through this before. “You love New York. When you start to talk about it, your face lights up. The other day, when we were having breakfast, all you talked about were bagels. Bagels, Caty.”

  “And? I’m just saying there aren’t enough good bagels here.”

  “I cannot listen to this again,” he complained, but he was smiling. He was telling her to go, yet he was still smiling.

  “You want me to go because I have this weird obsession with finding good bagels?”

  “It’s cute that you’re doing that thing again.” Elan unlocked the doors and stepped out of the car to get her luggage from the trunk.

  She got out and suggested, “We could start a bakery.”

  Elan laughed as he pulled her luggage out. “Do you know how to bake?”

  “No,” she answered, flat out.

  “Go back and do what you started out to do.” He handed her the luggage.

  “You overestimate me,” Caty sighed, taking the handle from him. “Fine, I’ll go back to New York. As you wish. I’ll beg Hans for another chance and work extra hard, while I also make plans to take over the world.”

  She paused. “I’m already exhausted just thinking about it.”

  “You can do it,” Elan responded, leaning forward to kiss her.

  Caty leaned back. “Seriously, though.”

  He bit his lip. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded. She looked nervous, so he pulled her in for a hug.

  Elan spoke, “Look, I didn’t want to say it yet because it’s not even the surest thing, but when I was in Philly, we went to this university. I got really interested in one of their programs. The place was nice. I really liked it.”

  “That sounds okay, but do they have a good team?” she asked, still embracing him.

  “I’m thinking of applying.”

  Caty hit him playfully on the arm as she stepped out of the embrace. “Shut up. That’s only, like, a two-hour drive?”

  He laughed. “I’m not in yet.”

  “Of course you’re gonna get in! You’re, like, really smart. You were reciting things
in your sleep, by the way. And it was all very impressive. I tried to write it down, but I couldn’t keep up.”

  Elan was embarrassed. He didn’t know that he talked in his sleep. How come nobody had told him?

  “This is great,” Caty kept on, her excitement building.

  This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to tell her, yet. So he said, “We don’t know that. Plus I have to apply for funding and—”

  “Shush,” Caty interrupted, beaming at him. “It’s a shot. Sometimes, that’s all we need.”

  He looked her in the eyes, took in how happy she looked at that very moment, and decided that it was okay to have this. Some tiny hope they would be together again, a tentative deadline for their separation.

  “Elan,” she called his name. “I’m not being naive. We’re going to hate each other for wanting to go through with this. It’s going to be hard. We’ll be soaking in frustration most of the time. It’s like we’re setting each other up for heartbreak by deciding to go through this.”

  “Great, I can’t wait,” he deadpanned. “There’s a but in this speech, right?”

  Caty laughed and rubbed her thumb on his cheek. “But.”

  He smiled, taking her hand to kiss it.

  “We’re gonna make this work.”

  “Yeah?”

  Caty leaned in and kissed him, then whispered, “Yes,” as she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss.

  A loud honk could have broken up that kiss, but he was saying goodbye to his woman, so they could just find another place to unload their luggage, minimum time for parking in front of the terminal be damned.

  Caty pulled away first, turned to the honking car, and screamed, “Just a second!”

  Elan winced but laughed at it all. She returned to give him soft kisses before pulling away completely. She had her eyes closed as she sighed, “Okay, I’m going.”

  He leaned back on his car, hands in his pockets as he watched her go.

  “Hey,” he called.

  She looked up, eyes hopeful, kind, and beautiful. Elan shuddered, like he did that first time, because she was looking at him, and he was looking at her, and they knew, even without the words, they knew.

  But sometimes saying it out loud works too.

  “I love you.”