Page 32 of College Boy

Once and for all...

“Text me when you land,” he teased, watching as she slid the gear shaft back into “reverse” at last. “And every rest stop in between, okay?”

“Just try and stop me,” she blubbered, the tears falling at last. “But first I’m going to pull around the corner and have a good cry so I can see the road. Eventually.”

He took a step off the curb, only half-joking as he croaked through his own tears, “Want me to come with you? Hold your hand? Offer you tissues until they all run out?”

She finally snorted, backing out as if afraid he might actually go through with his offer. Instead he merely waved, watching her wave back all while navigating the crumbling parking lot of his crumbling apartment complex. He waved until she’d turned into light traffic, then waved some more, until her brake lights disappeared and he was left standing there, a bag full of souvenirs hanging from one stooped shoulder, but none as valuable as the broken heart he felt all the way upstairs.

The one he vowed to heal as soon as he could get back to Flamingo Shores and start spring break all over again. This time, permanently.

Epilogue

Emma

“So, how was it, New Guy?”

Emma turned from hanging her work smock over the little hook by the back door, Mitch printing the last of the day’s sales report from the cash register on the counter across from her. He held up a long finger, as if to put her Q & A on hold. Finally the sales report printed, as long as herPB & Crayapron but, to her newest summer employee, clearly a million times more important.

“Sorry,” he murmured distractedly, as he had all day, tongue out like a little boy learning how to finger paint. “Just wanted to get this part right.”

She chuckled playfully. “You’ve gotten everything right, New Guy. All day long. And even if you hadn’t, even if you ran out of paper, even if the printer jammed, we’d just ... print another one, okay?”

Mitch turned then, hair cut short for the summer, setting off his chiseled features and deep, sea green eyes. “I just want to do a good job for you, okay?” He held the daily report out to her like a little tyke offering Santa Claus his wish list.

She took it and folded it twice before setting it aside in the “In” bin for the next day’s opener. “You’ve done a better-than-good job, Mitch. You get that, right?”

He cocked his hip, crossing those long arms over his stiff newPB & Craywork t-shirt. “You’re not just saying that because you want to get laid tonight, are you?”

Emma snorted, giggling merrily as the old, flirty Mitch returned once more. “I’ve missed you, College Boy,” she murmured, opening her arms as he glanced around the cramped food truck as if they might get caught. “I’ve forgotten how damn sexy you can be.”

“You didn’t forget last night,” he teased, easing into her grip and lacing his fingers around the small of her back.

“Or this morning,” she purred against his throat, feeling smaller than ever now that Mitch was back, finally back, wrapping her in his arms and teasing her mercilessly.

“Mm,” he faux moaned in her ear, mimicking the way she’d come for him, over and over again, as the shower water danced across his back and the bathroom tiles dug into hers. “This morning.”

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