45. Klein
A golf cart.
A ferry.
An automobile.
An airplane.
Those are the modes of transportation that land us back at Sky Harbor International Airport in hot and dry Phoenix, Arizona.
We stand in baggage claim after collecting our bags, hands intertwined. I can tell Paisley doesn’t want to let me go. I don’t want to let her go, either.
“Eight days ago when I was here, I had no idea what the week would hold. I thought there would be sun, sand, and?—”
She grins impishly. “Cake.”
“Yep. But the trip turned into more than I could’ve dreamed of.”
“What now, Klein?”
My thumb runs over the top of her hand. “What do you mean?”
Worry pulls at the corners of her eyes. “Now that we’re back. What now? On the airplane, I started wondering, what if it was the magic of the island? Will the desert negate it all? Normal life?”
“Eight years ago I liked you when I met you living normal life in the desert.”
A breath of relief pushes from her chest.
I lean in, pressing a kiss to her lips, letting it linger. “Do you have a car parked here?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to give me a ride home? Otherwise I have to call Halston, and I’m not ready for her questions and attitude.” I’m scheduled to work with her tomorrow night, so it’s not like I can avoid her much longer.
Paisley drives me home. We linger in front of my apartment, trading kisses over her console. She brushes a fingertip over her lower lip, saying, “It’s going to be weird not to be with you tonight. To wake up without you tomorrow morning.”
I stroke her face, tuck her hair behind her ear, rub my thumb over the apple of her cheek. This past week changed my life, and I think I’d live in a home built out of Palo Verde twigs if it meant waking up and pulling her body into mine. “I’m off tomorrow during the day, but I’m working tomorrow night. I can come over after? It might be late.” Even that is too much time for me. I miss her already.
She leans into my touch. “Late works for me.”
I haul my bag from her back seat, turning to wave goodbye before I climb the stairs to my apartment. I let myself in, and unbelievably, everything is the same. So odd for it all to be waiting for me the way it was when I left, but I am returning a different man.
I unpack and start the laundry. Paisley and I text all evening, about everything and nothing.
My chest aches with how much I miss her.