Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
CATO
Standing in my apartment is more depressing than I imagined after such an amazing weekend. The remnants of my relationship with Kyle are scattered about: his sweater draped on the couch, a book he was reading, the vacation brochures we looked at together still on the coffee table.
I quickly gather them, putting them in a pile on the dining room table. Tomorrow I’ll take the sweater and book to the post office to mail them back, even though he lives less than ten miles from here. The last thing I want is to see him again.
After a shower, I sit on my couch, gazing at my phone. I want to tell Tigo I miss him, but that seems so weird and clingy. He’s probably working. In a few days, he likely won’t even remember me. He’ll meet more people and drop that sexy smile on them.
We live different lives in different places. I don’t regret anything from this weekend, but it sure does suck now that it’s over. I read over the messages between Tigo and me.
Me: If I close my eyes, I can still smell the ocean.
I don’t know why I send that. Just rubbing salt in my wound again.
Tigo: When I close my eyes, I can still see you.
Butterflies fill my stomach, leaving me slightly breathless.
Me: This is harder than I thought.
Tigo: For real.
A few seconds later, a second text comes through.
Tigo: Can I hear your voice?
Me: Yes.
My phone rings, bringing a smile to my face.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hi, Cato.” He’s quiet. All I can hear is his breath. “I said I wasn’t going to say a bunch of crazy shit.”
“Same.”
“There’s this movie on Prime I’ve been meaning to watch. It’s got an Indiana Jones vibe to it. Want to watch it together?”
“Together?”
Tigo chuckles. “Yeah. We have phones. We could video chat and watch it. What do you say?”
“That’s creative and adorable. I’m in.” I press the video call button, and when his face fills my screen, my chest squeezes around my heart. “Hey.”
Tigo grins. “Fuck, you’re hot.”
“So are you.”
“Ready?”
“I am.”
As I settle back on the couch with a movie on the TV and Tigo on my phone, I feel a mixture of sadness and joy. He’s not into long-distance things, so what are we doing? I don’t know, but for now, I’ll take it.
“It’s been three weeks since you left San Diego,” Wes notes, perched on my kitchen counter and eating the cheese as I cut it up.
“I’m well aware.”
He lifts an eyebrow, giving me the look. It always signals that I’m about to get a stern talking to.
“Okay, I guess I have to be direct. You have feelings for Tigo.”
“And? What does it matter? He lives in San Diego. I live here.”
“Right. No one in the history of the world has ever relocated.”
“Relocate? Are you nuts? Tigo and I shared a wonderful weekend together, but it’s not serious enough to move.”
“Could it be if you spent more time together?”
“I don’t know.” I pause cutting the cheese, resting the knife on the cutting board. “What am I supposed to do? Just give up my apartment and drive to California in the hopes he wants a relationship with me?”
“Basically, yes.”
I shake my head, resuming my task. “He was clear he wasn’t looking for that.”
“No. To hear you tell it, he was clear he didn’t want to do anything long distance. This wouldn’t be that.”
I focus on the cheese, replaying the parting conversation in my head.
If you’re ever back in San Diego, you know where to find me.
“It wasn’t an invitation.”
“What about the part where he suggested you move there?”
“You can’t trust anything a man says right after he nuts. He never brought it up again.”
Wes slides off the counter, putting his hand on my back.
“Babe, listen. You sounded different after that weekend. Happy. Not at all like you sounded with your ex. Isn’t the potential for even more happiness worth moving one state over?
You said you loved the city. You work from home. What’s stopping you?”
“What if it was just a…?” I shrug. “A moment in time. What if I get there, and he thinks it’s weird? What if he’s met someone else already? What if he only planned to hook up with me for the weekend?”
“Do you really believe that?”
My heart says no, but my brain isn’t sure my heart can be trusted.
“How many times did you feel that niggle of doubt in your last relationship? The voice that questioned his commitment to you?”
That one hurts. More times than I want to admit, even to myself.
“You told me yourself that Tigo seemed like the most authentic person you ever met. You never used a word like that to describe Dipshit.”
“True.”
“I’ll remind you too that Tigo has made contact. You watch movies together, for fuck’s sake, and he tells you funny stories about the resort. Does that sound like a weekend fling to you?”
“Is this a campaign to get rid of me?”
Wes laughs. “No. It’ll suck for me if you move, but what kind of bestie would I be if I didn’t encourage you to chase love?
I hated how Kyle started treating you, and even though I don’t know Tigo, I know you extremely well.
The way you talk about him makes me hope you’ve finally found your prince. He can’t move, but you can.”
I consider what Wes is saying as I lean on the counter. Could I really just pack up my shit and move to San Diego in the hopes of a relationship working out with Tigo? As insane as it sounds, it’s far more appealing than skulking around this apartment replaying my time with him.
“Fuck. I think I’m gonna do it.”
Wes grins. “That’s my bestie.”