Page 13 of Love.V2
“It’s only a few months,” I told Dylan, repeating the same words I’d used like a mantra for weeks. His hum vibrated through my chest where we were pressed together. Even after two semesters with him, I felt like I’d never get enough of this feeling. Safe. Happy.Loved.
I’d never told anyone aside from my immediate family I loved them. Now, I told Dylan so often, it was like I was trying to wear the words out. But they didn’t feel worn. Months later, saying it out loud still felt like the plummeting drop of a roller coaster—scary and exhilarating all at the same time.
I took a deep breath, inhaling his clean, piney scent, trying to focus on that instead of the gasoline fumes permeating the bus station around us.
“This sucks,” Dylan finally rumbled, pulling back to look down at my face. He looked as tortured as I felt.
“It’s only for a couple of months,” I repeated, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
Dylan smoothed his fingers across my forehead, pushing a few strands of hair behind my ear. “I just don’t feel like we’re meant to be apart, Angel.”
I burrowed my face against his t-shirt, unsure how to respond to that, because I felt it, too. Everything about this felt wrong—leaving him, leaving my home state, all of it.
“And I hate that you have to go off like this by yourself, to a place you’ve never been, where you don’t know anyone.”
His nose rubbed across the top of my head. I sighed. He’d voiced these concerns before. I’d never even been outside the borders of Tennessee. But an art camp near Indianapolis had agreed to hire me for the summer and compensate me in room and board instead of weekly checks. It had been a blessing. I didn’t have to worry about having a roof over my head or where my next meal was coming from. Roughing it a little in the woods of Indiana was a sweet deal compared to some places I’d slept in my life.
Besides, Mom’s new boyfriend had made it clear I wasn’t welcome back home over the summer. I had a strained relationship with my mom to begin with, and this new guy was a walking red flag, so at least I wouldn’t have to deal with all that.
“I’ve done this before. Recently, if you’ll remember.” I tried to sound braver than I felt. After all, I’d figured out how to get myself to college and showed up on day one without knowing a single soul.
“Sure, but that was before you had me.”
I shrugged, finally pulling out of his arms and hefting my duffel bag over my shoulder. Standing around moping wasn’t helping anything.I couldn’t afford to miss my bus. Literally. “It’s fine. I got this. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
I wasn’t going to see him until August, when camps were over and the fall semester started back up again. I couldn’t afford another bus ticket, and he wasn’t allowed to stay on camp premises if he came to visit.
But I could lie to myself, and him, and pretend it was only weeks, not months, that we’d be apart. I could tell myself whatever I had to as long as it got me on that bus, because if I didn’t, I was S.O.L.
“What if I come with you?”
It had been hard to look at him, but now I tipped my head back to roll my eyes. “You’re going to tell your dad you’re not working for him this summer? Follow me to an art camp and what? Get in touch with your creative side?”
A thoughtful frown creased his brow, the same familiar expression he wore when he was working on tricky homework or trying to solve an issue with his fraternity brothers.
“No, but I can at least get you there. I don’t have to be at work until Monday. I can buy a ticket, sit with you ‘till Indianapolis. Help you unpack, then catch the next bus out four hours later.”
“Dylan—”
“I’ll be back early Monday morning. I can make it.”
“Early Monday?” I turned to stare at the schedule he was eyeing. “You’ll get back into Nashville at two a.m. You’ll hardly have time to sleep.”
“It’s my first day. Dad will go easy on me.”
I wasn’t so sure. I hadn’t met Dylan’s dad yet, but from the stories he told me, his father took the concept of “tough love” to a whole new level.
“We’ll have a few more hours together on the bus. I can meet some of the other counselors, so they’ll believe you when you tell them about your devastatingly handsome boyfriend back home.” His mouth curved up. I could practically feel his resolve settling into place.
“Obviously, I want to spend more time with you, but I can’t ask you to sit on a smelly bus with me for six hours, just to turn around and do it all again the night before you start your new job.”
He cupped my cheek, tipping my face up. “You’re not asking me. I’m offering.” His eyes darted between mine, searching and warm. “You don’t have to do this alone, Tess.”
I blinked back the tears welling in my eyes. I’d been on my own for a long, long time. In some ways, maybe I’d been on my own for forever. I didn’t know what to do with someone who loved me enough to offer something so selfless.
“I love you,” I told him, because it seemed like the only thingtosay. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You do.” His mouth brushed against mine.
