Page 6 of The Risks of Reuniting

He chuckles. "Small world, huh?"

"Too small," I whisper to myself. "Much too small."

"What does your family think of you going on this adventure?" he asks, reminding me how much he knows about me and my life.

"They're as surprised as you are," I reply, lifting my head again. "And you? You're on a break from school?"

Asking him about school makes my stomach swirl and my legs feel like lead. I don't want to acknowledge the reason we're apart.

He nods. "Yeah. Seemed like good timing."

I laugh, but it's not with humor. "Yep, great timing. Great."

But it's not great. Not at all.

Holt moves away and I'm grateful for the reprieve from this surprise. I sink lower into my seat and focus on my feet as my mind races through so many of the things I've been trying to forget. His smile, his laugh, his scent, his kindness, his work ethic, his goodness. Holt was the entire package, until the day he broke my heart.

I zone out, staring ahead of me, willing back the tears and promising myself that everything happens for a reason. Suddenly, Poppy's words from my horoscope come circling back. Didn't she say something about my moon being agitated? Well – she was right.

Chapter 3

Holt

Myheartispoundingand my throat feels funny. I swallow, trying to push the lump back down. Chloe Moore is sitting ten feet away from me. My Chloe. Well, I guess she's not technically mine anymore, but tell that to my stomach, because that guy still tumbles when I see her. It's been that way since the first time. I always wanted to be where Chloe was and ten months apart hasn't changed a thing. I'd known it in theory, but now I have evidence – time makes no difference to me or my body's reaction to her.

She shifts in her seat, clearly still uncomfortable with me being here. I take a breath and will my chin to drop to my chest and my eyes to close. I'm doing my best to look unaffected, non-threatening, bored, but my pounding pulse proves it's all for show. Everything about her screamed that sitting next to her would not be welcome after our surprise encounter, so I'd moved down a few seats before sitting, but I couldn't bring myself to move too far away.

Maybe this boulder in my throat is the food court egg roll I was swallowing when I caught my first glimpse of her walking by. I nearly choked as I did a double-take. Her hair is cropped short now, but the athletic and driven way she moved, with her chin leading and the gold necklaces she always wears swinging around in front of her, I knew who she was almost before my eyes fully registered what I was seeing.

I wonder where the rest of that egg roll ended up. I don't remember eating it, or setting it down – I just remember grabbing my pack off the chair next to me and starting to walk.

The expression she wore when I walked around to face her flashes in front of my closed eyes. While I had soaked up the sight of her, my skin heating at her nearness, she had been filled with ice. Chloe's eyes had never stopped haunting me, and in that moment the brown had been so dark and deep that I'd nearly lost myself taking her in. I love her new haircut. It suits her. The way she lets it wave wildly around makes me think of the girl she keeps under lock and key most of the time. Chloe has a wild side, and she only shares it with those she trusts the most. I want to push her buttons and see if I can tease it out of her still, but that's a dangerous game – one I have no business playing.

I feel Chloe shift in her seat at the same time that the flight staff announces they've moved on to the next boarding zone. I'm a college student on a limited budget, so my boarding pass has me loading last. I have no idea what type of flier Chloe would be considering she refused to ever fly in the past. I'm still shocked she's in an airport at all. I assume, though, that she did her research and put her money to good use, and she'll probably load before me.

Sure enough, Chloe breezes past me, and I catch a whiff of that same citrus body spray she's always used. My fingertips itch to reach out and let my hand coast along her arm as she walks by, but I keep myself rigidly relaxed until I can't smell her anymore. I open my eyes and watch as she gets to the gate and the staff has her stand still to scan her face and then her boarding pass. How is it possible that she even looks pretty in the scanner that flashes her stoic expression back at me?

When my parents suggested a trip to Peru this summer, between my college semesters at pharmacy school, I thought the idea had merit. Mymom knows I still miss Chloe, and we agreed I could use some time away. But the thought of sitting around with my Peruvian family for weeks on end, with all of the cousins asking me about my mostly empty life, had me feeling more tense. What I need is work. I need to help others and forget about myself.

Thus, the humanitarian trip. The perfect escape. Run away, but do some good while you're at it.

If someone had told me Chloe would be on this trip I'd have laughed in their faces. Chloe was never willing to visit Peru with me in the year we dated. I think of all of those conversations as I watch her slim body, held tightly upright, move down the corridor toward the plane, and out of my sight.

She looks tense and unsure, and I want to take her hand in mine and let her know that I've still got her back. Yes, the emotional attachment to her should have faded in the months we've been separated, but it's stubbornly sticking around. I stand and stretch, blowing out a deep breath and hook my pack over my shoulders as my boarding zone gets called. I make my way toward the flight desk as Chloe fully disappears down the jetway. I smile, imagining Chloe's cousin Poppy having some sort of peppy, optimistic thing to tell me about how this could be what the stars had in store for me. Man, sometimes I miss Chloe's family as much as I miss her.

The only pep talk I'd gotten from my roommate and friend, Brock, was a'hey, don't die down there, and bring me back some of those chocolate bars I like'. Real inspiring stuff.

My face is scanned, my boarding pass logged, and I walk down the jetway toward a plot twist I don't know how to face. My dumb optimistic gut is beginning to override the surprise with churning hope. Maybe fate threw me a bone. What if this is my shot to fix a huge mistake?

Yeah, and what if I spend the next month within touching distance of Chloe and she keeps me at arm's length? What if she's still as angry as she was last summer?

There's a line to get onto the plane and my mind continues to stew as I stand patiently. What if I'd turned down the acceptance to UNC-Chapel Hill? What if I'd gone to pharmacy school in Salt Lake City? Or, what if Chloe had put aside all her excuses and chosen to come with me? Why hadn't she chosen me? That was the real question that had kept me up at night.

Of course, the argument could be made that I should have chosen her and stayed. She has a steady career as a dental hygienist, owns a nice condo, and is building up a retirement savings already. She is settled and steady. Why hadn't I chosen her?

I shake my head, knowing how these thoughts can circle forever. It does me no good. The answers never come and I still find myself alone in North Carolina, working toward a career I'm excited about, and coming home to a big blond dude who needs to wash his sheets more often. Brock is great, but he's not Chloe. No one is Chloe.

Thankfully the line starts moving again and I manage to squeeze past the first class, and business class, and I'm two rows away from my own seat before I spot her. She's on my left, her body leaning up against the window as she presses close to get a glimpse of Atlanta. She doesn't turn her head as I walk past, and I'm both disappointed and grateful.

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