Myrtle Beach Chrysler-Jeep dealership. Grand Cherokee. Chloe gets to pick the color. Happy Graduation. I love you. Mom.
Mom wasn’t the only one who called. Dad did, too, over twenty times. We stopped by a store and picked up a new SIM card for my phone. I texted Josh and Mom my new number. I also told Mom to give Josh my old car; his was unreliable at best.
Chloe found a homeless shelter nearby and gave them her car.
Mom had handled all the financing by phone, so by the time we got to the dealership, all I had to do was sign for ownership, and Chloe had to pick a color.
She chose red.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Chloe
I woke the next morning to an empty bed. When I sat up to look around the room, all his stuff was still there. Relief washed through me. Then I saw it. Red ink on torn white paper, sitting on his pillow.
Back soon. Gone for a run.
P.S. You’re beautiful when you’re sleeping. Just thought you should know that—in case nobody else ever gets a chance to tell you.
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and read the note over and over. In case nobody else ever gets a chance to tell you. I wondered for a moment what he meant—but it was only a moment before reality kicked in. The best kind of reality. Blake was there—with me. And we had until August 19 to make it count.
I got up, used the bathroom, and brushed my teeth, then climbed back into bed and waited for him to return. I had to wait only a few minutes before I heard him walk over to the side of the bed and stand over me.
“Like the dead,” he whispered and laughed to himself.
I shot up and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him down with me.
“Jesus Christ, Chloe, you scared the shit—”
I pressed my lips to his. Rushed and frantic at first, but then the kiss slowed enough so that he could position himself on top of me and between my legs. He tasted salty from the sheen of sweat that covered his face and his entire body. He was shirtless again. And the picture of him in my mind made my hips jerk up and into him.
He moaned but pulled back quickly. “Shit,” he spat out, letting his head fall onto my shoulder. “I need to shower.” He kissed me once. “A cold one.”
And then he was gone. I waited for him to get in the bathroom before kicking my legs wildly, like a teenager who had just made out with a boy she’d been crushing on forever. Because that was what I was. A teenager, crushing on a boy for the very first time in her life.
I got out of bed, made us coffee, and waited out on the balcony for him. When he came out, he just stood in front of me. “You’re in my seat,” he said. My eyebrows bunched, but I got up anyway. He sat down, but before I could move to another seat, his arm curled around me and brought me down onto his lap. “I think every room we get should have a balcony.”
“Okay.” I picked up my coffee and used it to hide my smile.
He kissed my neck a few times, and his lips remained there when he spoke. “Chloe?”
“Yeah?”
He pulled back and swiveled my legs so I was sideways on his lap. “I think that—I mean, I want to—” He cursed under his breath before continuing, “I want to take things slow with you. With us. We only have a couple months, and I want to remember all of it. I don’t just want to have sex with you and become another forgettable guy.”
I opened my mouth to interrupt, but he cut me off.
“I know,” he said. “I know that’s not what I am, but I don’t want to risk it. And I’m scared that if we have sex, then that’s the only thing we’ll remember from this time we have together, that’s all this adventure will become—sex. Because I’m positive that once I have you in that way, then I’ll need to have you always. And that’s just not good enough for me. It’s not good enough for us.”
“Okay,” I said, because a part of me agreed with him, and another part of me wondered what the hell I’d done that made me deserve him.
Sometimes the wrong path can lead us to the right road. And toward the greatest thing that will ever happen to us.
We stood in front of the fridge and stared at my handwritten quote on the magnet I’d just placed there. I hoped he understood what I meant by it. I hoped he knew that I was talking about him. That he was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
“Why are you leaving it here?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe one day someone will book this room, see that message, and those words might be exactly what they need to see. Maybe they’ll smile after reading it. Maybe a smile is all they’ll need to keep them going.”
“You got another one?”
I reached into my bag and pulled out a blank magnet and a red pen. He smiled when he took it from my hands. Then he leaned on the counter, wrote on the magnet, and stuck it right next to mine.
When life gives you melons, you might be dyslexic.
“It’s a giant peach,” he said.
I leaned back against the car and looked at the roadside water-tower attraction. “I know, how cool is it?”
“I don’t think cool is the right word.” He tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know that there is a word to describe it.”
“I think it’s cool.”
“I think it’s odd that I can’t stop staring at it.”
I laughed. “I think you secretly think it’s cool.”
“I think the word cool is outdated.”
I turned my back on the giant peach and stood in front of him. “I think you’re outdated.”
He peered down at me from under the brim of his Duke cap. “I’ll outdate you.” He pulled my shirt until I was flush against him. Then he lowered his head toward mine.
My eyes shut.
I waited for his lips to touch mine.
But they never did.
I opened my eyes.
He was gazing over my head. “I can’t stop staring at the giant peach.”