Page 79 of No Place Like You

“I just…” I pause, taking a breath, a moment to collect my words. “I can’t believe you would think to do that.”

“I wanted to make sure I got your order right if I ever needed to get you coffee,” he explains with a small shrug, as if it was completely normal to have my drink order wedged between his credit cards and a few five-dollar bills.

Dexter’s name is called, and our identical drinks sit on the counter, waiting to be collected by us. He grabs a straw for me, opting to drink his using the straw-free spout, and we walk out of the busy coffee shop. Once we’re outside, I stop on the sidewalk, letting people walk past me while I ease myself under an awning, away from the steady flow of foot traffic.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” Dexter asks, following my steps.

I nod while I push down the lodged knot in my throat. This was supposed to be temporary. I was only supposed to occupy Dexter’s spare bedroom while I finished out the length of my internship, and I’m supposed to go home at the end of it. It’s an agreement he and I both agreed on.

And now, he goes and does something soun-temporary. That piece of paper could sit in his wallet for all of eternity. It could stay stuck to the leather lining as a constant and forever reminder of what we had. I can remove all remnants of myself from his apartment. I can pack away my clothes, my belongings, my messiness, all of it, without leaving a single trace behind, but I can’t take away that piece of paper from him.Heput that there.Heturned it into something permanent.

“Are you sure?”

I look at him, the inner corners of my eyebrows turned up almost like I’m pleading. Why did he have to go and do that? Why did he have to make me want, make me hope, for more from this?

“Dexter,” I say, my eyes avoiding his. I start to choke on my words, and I feel like I’m going to burst into tears. “I, um…Everything you’vedone for me while I’ve been here has meant so much to me. And I just want to tell you…thank you. For everything.”

He strokes his fingers along my arm, and my eyes start to mist over. A look sweeps across his face, something expectant, with his widened eyes and rosy smile, and he nods at the same time his hand clutches my fingers.

“I’m going to miss you,” I finally add, and his face drops.

An acknowledging look replaces the hopeful one he had, and he tugs at my hand. “We should get going,” he whispers softly.

The chaotic energy you find at any large airport surrounds me and Dexter as we head out of the terminal to where the taxi service line is located. Dexter has my luggage in one hand and his in the other, and I’m following along with my carry-on bag slung over my shoulder.

We stand under the large sign that reads TAXI in bold letters, accompanied by the silhouette image of a taxi car, and patiently wait in the line. My hand is wrapped around Dexter’s bare arm, and his hand occasionally rubs against my lower back. We steal glances at each other, wondering if the silence between us is due to the exhaustion after a ten-hour flight or because we don’t know what to say to each other.

Everything I want to tell him sits heavy on my heart. Words like “home” and “future” and even “love.” I can’t possibly be in love with him. How can I? How could I have fallen in love with Dexter in just two months?

But maybe I gave that small four-letter word too much power. Placed it high on a pedestal, where even a ten-foot ladder couldn’t help me reach. Something I never thought was in the cards for me. I always thought lovewas more calculated, more intentional and purposeful. I didn’t think love could justhappen. Out of nowhere, completely unexpected.

But it’s here. “Love” and “Dexter.”

He just showed up. He blindsided me, and now I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to how things were before love fell in my lap.

“You take the first cab,” Dexter says, insisting I get to the hotel ahead of him. “I can get the next one.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, my thumb tapping against the retracted handle of my suitcase.

“Of course.” He gently places his hand on mine and squeezes it. “I want to make sure you’re already on the road before I go.”

I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck. He lets out a deep sigh as he pulls me closer to him.

“I’ve gotten so used to touching you, I don’t know how I’m going to do without it.”

Dexter chuckles. “Am I that irresistible?”

I nod. “I also find kittens irresistible.” My hand smooths against his flat chest. “And those fancy Christmas villages with tiny people dressed in winter coats and fake snow. And a bowl of picked out marshmallows from a box of Lucky Charms.”

“I find you pretty irresistible too,” he answers, his own hand smoothing along the hollow curve of my lower back. “Though much more irresistible than a bowl of marshmallows.”

“Rainbow marshmallows,” I correct. “The regular ones, not so much.”

“I think I’m going to miss kissing you more than anything.” And he does just that: kiss me. Deeply and slowly. As if we don’t have a hotel to check into and friends and family to pretend we haven’t spent the last two months playing house in front of.

A taxi pulls up at the same time I pull away. Dexter helps the cabbie load my suitcase into the trunk and opens the door for me. “I’ll be right behindyou,” he says. He grips the doorframe to the cab, staring at his hand as if avoiding my eyes. “I’ll probably wait a little bit so we don’t pull up at the same time,” he adds softly. He still doesn’t look at me.

“Yeah,” I whisper hoarsely.

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