Page 78 of Love at First Sighting
I shrug. “Maybe. I might leave atsomepoint. Or I’ll ask Leonard to teach me how to play his game.”
I actually don’t know if I’d be any good at it, but maybe Icouldpivot my brand to include gaming content. It’s worth thinking about. Carter’s clearly bemused by the idea—he has a dorky smile on his face and raised brows. Instead of a snarky comment, he kisses me one final time.
It’s lazy and sleepy, slow and languid, but I can’t complain.
“I do actually have to get dressed, though,” he mumbles.
“Fine,” I allow.
Carter climbs out of bed, then disappears into the bathroom to brush his teeth. I stay in bed and catch up on my socials. I’ve been out of pocket since my blowup yesterday, and Bex has issued a statement in her Instagram stories, apologizing for my behavior. I mute her. I’m not ready to unfollow her and handle that shitstorm, but I certainly do not need to see her daily tea-making stories. I flip past some smoothieads, skin care–sponsored ads, photos of influencers and their cute kids.
Then I put my phone down and decide to savor my offline morning with Carter instead.
Carter emerges from the bathroom and finds a pair of slacks in his closet, working them up his legs. I sit up in bed and beckon him over to me. As he pulls on an undershirt and slides a white button-down over his shoulders, he pauses in front of me. Then kneels, like he knows what I want to do.
I smooth out the sharper creases in his shirt, taking one wrist in my hands to button the sleeve and then the other. One by one, moving up his front, I slide the buttons through the holes until I reach the base of his throat. We’re completely silent while I slide his tie under his collar and tie it for him. He lets me snap his suspenders to his pants.
“Final touch,” I say, dropping his trilby hat onto his head. There’s a sense of sadness to it, like with each item of clothing I put on, I’m giving him away again. Last night, we were whoever we wanted to be. Jeans and T-shirts, unfiltered. Now it’s back to what we both know best. With one last kiss, Carter slides his jacket over his shoulders and leaves for work.
Chapter 24
Carter
As the sun sets over the California desert and we drive toward Brazel Airfield, all I can think is that I’m not ready for this.
Marcus’s meeting with Ian Forte has hung over my head for two weeks, and I could forget about it for brief moments when I was consumed by my growing love for El, but it was going to sneak up on me one way or another. I secretly hoped I’d misread the appointment or that I’d get some other kind of answer that’d make all this negligible, but that never came.
And sure enough, Marcus was out of the office all day today, just as he’d marked on his calendar.
I knew it was coming, but I hoped somehow I’d been mistaken.
“We’re just a few minutes away now,” El says.
I’ve never been to a private airfield before, but I imagine it’s a little different from a normal airport. I don’t think we’ll encounter check-in and security lines or an off-brand Chili’s.
“We’re going to park in the lot, cover up the car,” she says, walking through our plan. “Then we’re going to sneak around the outside and make our way across the tarmac to the hangar.”
“Yeah, the two of us sneaking across a whole tarmac. That’s going to be fun,” I grumble. I think we might be in over our heads, but what other choice do we have?
“We’ll figure it out,” she assures me.
El’s been particularly close and attentive today. I learned years ago that crying and wishing things were different wouldn’t bring my dad back. It wouldn’t change that I’d never see him again, and I’ve gotten so used to a lack of real affection that I don’t exactly know what to do with it now.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with the way she plays with my hair or how she always seems genuinely excited to see me. I come home from work and she’s already figured out what we’re having for dinner, has a list of ideas for what we can do that night ready to go. So I let her, and day by day it gets easier.
It won’t change the fact that tonight could break the already-fragile parts of me.
The sun’s gone down and there’s nothing but our blinding headlights and the moon to give us light until we approach the airfield. El reaches across the console and grabs my hand. Her painted nails dance over my stark white knuckles before I surrender and weave my fingers with hers.
El swings the car into a spot. A tall air traffic control tower watches over the tarmac like a prison guard. We’re going to be ants under a microscope out there. El sheathes our ride under a dark tarp and rounds it to me.
She’s dressed in a pair of casual black jeans, a dark jacket, and our matching black Converse. I could have dressed down, but I figured if PIS agents aren’t completely unusual around here, my uniform might help me out. El slides her hands around my waist and I let out a shuddering breath into her hair.
“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay,” she says. “You good?”
No. I want to turn around and forget I was ever looking for answers, because it’d be easier that way.
If I quit now, though, El doesn’t get her answers, either. So, for her, I nod.
