CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
J ason
Cal is standing with Rex and Jeremy near the baggage claim, presumably waiting for Rex and Jeremy’s bags. I force myself to resist the temptation to go to Cal and ask Cal how his flight was. I don’t need to have stilted conversation with him in front of his boss. He doesn’t either.
Instead, I slip by them.
I want to go home and shower. As much as I enjoy swimming, it will be nice to be in water and not have it be shared with fish.
I already hate the fluorescent lights and the swarms of people dragging luggage. I hurry through the baggage area, then step through the sliding doors into the main terminal.
Flashes greet me at once, and my stomach dives.
The paparazzi are here. Fucking fantastic. I give them an awkward nod, even as my whole body stiffens, and even though I want to dart back to the baggage carousels.
I might be in the NHL, and the Blizzards might be amazing, but I’ve never been the target of paparazzi before. Cal was my only experience of journalists chasing me. The paparazzi used to come to the Blizzards Arena when Finn and Noah got together, and they were a pain.
Not that they ever noticed me.
Now things have changed. It’s not a good change.
“Jason! Were you really stuck on an island?”
“Did you think you were going to die?”
“What’s it like being back in the US?”
In movies when this happens, there’s someone to shout no comment and hurry me from the crowd.
Instead, the passengers on the plane turn around to look at me. They stop their normally speedy walk out of the airport to stare.
No one is with me to help.
“You’re that guy who died on the jet ski!” one passenger exclaims.
“I’m alive,” I mumble.
He blinks. “Right. Of course.” He tries to smile. “Congratulations.”
I turn to the slew of paparazzi who’ve come to meet me, realizing they knew I was on this plane.
I scan them automatically, wondering if there’s someone here for me.
But there isn’t.
“I’m happy to be back,” I say, but I’m not sure that’s true.
How can I be happy when I already miss Cal so much? When every cell in my body is confused why he’s no longer pressed against me? When such a huge part of my day is simply... gone?
“Were you alone on the island?” someone shouts.
“Is it true you were with a gay male journalist?” another paparazzo shouts.
I stiffen. I turn back to the sliding doors, half expecting Cal to appear and confidently explain everything away.
But the only people who exit the sliding doors are strangers. Strangers who look at me curiously, some with distaste.
Yellow and white bulbs continue to flash. A red light is on: I’m being recorded on video too. Will I appear on the news? I’ve worn these clothes for a week straight. I have a beard. And not the fun, Stanley Cup play offs kind.
I’m happy, I remind myself. This is what I hoped for. I wanted to return. I’m safe.
But nothing seems safe now. When will the paparazzi ask the right questions? And what will I say to them?
At least Cal is no longer in danger. There are hospitals all over if Cal gets injured.
“I’m happy to be back,” I repeat.
And then, even though people have stopped around me, even though people are shouting more questions, I shove my way through the crowd, grunting apologies.
I need to order an Uber, but when a hotel pick-up van stops, I dash inside.
CAL
I don’t see Jason at the baggage terminal. He must have left without saying goodbye. It’s fine. We’re safe. That’s the important thing.
“Cal!” A familiar voice shouts my name, and I jerk my head toward the sound.
My sister waves her arms frantically toward me, her curly dark hair spilling from her lime green woolen hat, and I rush over to her.
“Tessa!”
There’s a steel bar separating us, but there’s no way I’m going to wind my way around the long barrier.
I duck under it and take her in my arms. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
Tessa doesn’t travel anywhere. I don’t think she’s ever been in Louisville, and that’s the next state.
“You’re alive!” Tessa exclaims happily.
“You heard?”
“About the jet ski incident? Everyone heard. I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’m sorry, Tess.”
She laughs. “Not your fault, silly.”
I squeeze her tightly. “It’s good to see you.”
“Obviously.” She tosses her hair. “You were hanging out with the worst of the worst. Like couldn’t you have been doing a story on Finn Carrington or Evan McAllister. They’re dreamy.”
“They’re in relationships.”
She blinks. “What does that have to do with—?”
“Nothing,” I blurt. “Just no shipping me with taken men.”
She tilts her head. Her eyes are narrowing, and I sweep my head around to make sure Rex and Jeremy are not right behind me.
Oddly, they aren’t.
They seem to be entrenched in a conversation of their own, even though you would think they’d had enough of each other. But then Jeremy was crushing on Rex when I last saw him. He probably still is.
“Where are you staying?” I ask.
“Your place?” Tessa asks hopefully.
“Yeah, that sounds great. We’ll need to share a room though.” I offer my arm, and she links arms with me.
“It will be like the old days,” she says happily.
“You better not tell me ghost stories.”
“Poor baby. And they’ll all be about shark specters looking for jet skiers.”
I remember the panic I felt when I realized my jet ski didn’t work, before Jason arrived to rescue me.
My face must look green or something, because she stops. “Shit. I’m sorry, Cal. That was probably too soon?”
I give a strangled laugh. “It’s good to see you.”
She nods, but her eyes remain assessing. “You seem different.”
“That’s what being stuck on an island does.” My laugh is maniacal, but I continue to sweep my gaze around the terminal hoping, hoping, hoping that Jason is here.
I stare at all the people marching through the airport. None of them are Jason.
Not being with him feels like a breakup. In fact, the ache in my chest feels worse than any breakup I’ve ever had.
Jeremy and Rex finally make their way over to Tessa and me.
“Jeremy and Rex, this is my sister Tessa.”
Tessa clears her throat. “Correction. I’m his awesome sister.”
“The awesomest,” I agree, squeezing her tightly, because I wasn’t sure I would ever see her again. I turn to Jeremy. “Mind if Tessa crashes at our place?”
“The more the merrier,” Jeremy says.
“Cool.”
I look around the airport again. “Did you see Larvik?”
Rex’s eyes narrow. So do Jeremy’s.
I avoid looking at Tessa, because sibling instinct is a thing.
“Looks like the paparazzi were here,” Jeremy says, flashing me his phone.
I stare at a panicked-looking Jason on the small screen.
Shit.
“I need to see him.”
Jeremy frowns. “Dude. You saw a whole lot of him.”
Rex scrutinizes me with similar curiosity. “You still need to write that article about him. I guess you weren’t able to do it on the island.”
I shake my head. “No notebook.”
“Shame.” Rex gives me a kind smile. “Tell you what. I’ll give you the rest of the day off. Let you recover. Then you can come back to the office tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you.”
He slaps his hand on my back. “The article will be great. I bet you got lots of personal details from him. I want you to write about what he’s really like.
The real Jason Larvik story. Likes, dislikes, personal details.
All the vulnerabilities that other reporters don’t know.
Get it on my desk by the end of the week. ”
Coldness slinks down my spine. Is that why Jason disappeared? He’s bracing for me to write a tell-all story about our time on the island together?
My stomach churns.
I won’t do that.
I won’t.
“We didn’t talk much,” I say.
“No surprise there,” Rex says, though his face is disappointed.
“He was excellent at helping us survive.”
Rex snorts. “Sounds like something for the Blizzards’ PR department.”
I look away hastily, hoping my reaction is not obvious, and usher my sister to my apartment.
She chatters happily about life in Tennessee, but my mind fills with blue eyes and blond hair, and when we enter my tiny North End apartment, with its red-painted planks and narrow windows overlooking an alley, my chest aches.