chapter 22
Sebastian
AS SOON AS I LAND and switch my cell out of airplane mode, a text comes in from Remi, telling me she’s here. I smile as a tingle of excitement goes through me. But then another text comes through, from Dad, asking me how I am, and that one takes the smile right off my face.
Dad doesn’t ever really care about how I am; it’s just how he worms his way into conversation before ultimately asking me for something.
But I’ve been waiting for two weeks to see Remi again, and I’m not going to let him ruin my time here.
He can wait; I’ll get back to him tomorrow.
I swipe the text notification away and try to put it from my mind as I walk to baggage claim.
It’s early Monday evening, and more people are flying out of Vegas than are flying in. It only takes twenty minutes for me to get to baggage claim and grab my single bag, and then I’m heading for the pickup area, my heart already beating a bit faster at the thought of seeing Remi again.
My plan was to get an Uber to the hotel, but she offered to pick me up when I landed. And she wants to cook dinner tonight, which means I’m going to see her place for the first time . . .
The idea of it has me excited for multiple reasons. One, I didn’t expect her to invite me into her personal space. And two, I’m going to be in her house, where that tub is, where her bed is.
I give my head a small shake as I walk, trying to stay focused as I follow the airport signage to the pickup area.
As soon as the doors to outside slide open, I’m hit with a wall of stifling desert air. For a moment, it steals my breath away, and I blink against the dry grittiness stinging my eyes.
It’s hard to believe people live here. And it makes me want to scoop Remi up and carry her back to California, where the ocean breeze is cool and the surf is perfect.
Maybe I should invite her to my place, I think as I scan the cars parked in a long line, waiting to pick up passengers. I don’t see her Jeep there, so I cross the road to search the cars that’re parked in the shaded waiting area.
And that’s when I see her.
She’s out of her Jeep, leaning against it, wearing a pair of black leggings, a baggy Panic! At The Disco T-shirt, and white sneakers. Her hair hangs loose around her shoulders as she scans the people coming and going. Then her eyes land on me, and her mouth curls slowly into a smile.
I don’t remember crossing the parking lot to get to her; all I know is I’m next to her now, my bag on the asphalt at our feet, and I’ve got her face in my hands, my fingers curling around the back of her head as I pull her in.
When I kiss her, everything in me softens. The tightness in my shoulders and back eases, and feeling her lips against mine is like taking my first breath of air in two weeks.
Remi makes a small sound as I press myself against her, her hands coming up to grip my T-shirt. And I wish she never had to let go.
A horn blares somewhere behind us, echoing in the parking area, and it makes us jerk apart, startled.
Remi lets out a small laugh as she looks up at me. “Hi.”
I gaze down at her, admiring the blue in her eyes, and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, which twinkles with a line of piercings. And I say the first thing that comes to mind. “It’s so fucking good to see you.”
Her lips form a smile, and she pulls me in for one more kiss before breaking away from me and saying, “I’m glad you’re here.”
So am I. There’s literally nowhere else on earth I’d want to be right now.
Remi opens the trunk of her Grand Cherokee, and I sling my bag into the back, then go around and climb into the passenger’s seat. She cranks the engine up, turns the AC to full blast, and then pauses, looking at me.
And I look back, wondering if she’s thinking what I’m thinking right now: that I’m already dreading having to come back to the airport, having to fly away from her and back to my life.
But we’ve got the night. And for now, I need to focus on that and let it be enough.
Slowly, she backs out of her parking spot, and then we’re cruising through the airport and back out onto the road that’ll lead us through Vegas.
“So,” I say, looking over at her, almost not believing she’s actually real, right here in front of me, “what are we having for dinner?”
Her golden-brown cheeks go pale for a second, eyes widening. “Oh, fuck.”
I arch a brow. “What?”
“I completely forgot to go grocery shopping. Shit.” She puts a hand to her head. “I’m sorry. Do you just want to get takeout?”
Smiling, I shake my head. “No way. I want Remi food.”
She tosses a glance at me. “Really? You don’t mind going shopping?”
“Nope. Maybe I can learn something. I’m terrible at groceries, remember?”
At the callback to one of our first text conversations, Remi smiles. “You need lessons in grocery shopping?”
Unable to resist, I reach out to trail my fingertips over her jaw and around the back of her neck, making her catch her breath. “I’ll take any lessons you’ll give me.”
Walking through Whole Foods with Remi is probably the most fun I’ve had in two weeks. I push the cart along, following her from aisle to aisle, sneaking extras into the cart when she’s not looking.
“What are we having?” I ask as she grabs a head of lettuce, two avocados, a few limes, and a bundle of an herb that smells really good but I don’t know the name of. Parsley? No, the spicy one. Cilantro? I think it’s cilantro.
“Tonight,” she says as she gestures for me to keep following her, “we’re having tacos.
And beer. I have Corona at home.” She swerves to go down another aisle, where she grabs a bag of tortilla chips.
As she sets it into the cart, her black hair falling forward around her face, she glances up to say, “Is that okay?”
I lean over the cart, taking her lips in mine, ignoring the other shoppers trying to bustle around us. As I pull away from the kiss, I whisper against her lips, “That sounds perfect.”
And I swear her smile could put a Cali sunrise to shame.
Remi finishes up her shopping, and as we’re waiting in line for the self-checkout, I hear a girl behind us whisper, “Do you really think that’s him?”
Next to me, Remi goes stiff; I can see the tension that creeps into her shoulders and the way she’s very obviously trying not to look at me or at the girls. It’s kind of cute, seeing her get all nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that.
There’s a light tap on my shoulder, and I turn.
Two teenage girls blink up at me, their eyes going wide.
“A-are you Sebastian Harris? From LGC?”
My lips lift into a smile. On the rare occasion that I do get recognized, I never mind taking a moment to chat with fans.
“In the flesh.”
One of the girls bumps the other one and whispers, “I told you!”
Her friend bumps her back and holds up her phone with a shaky hand. “Could we take a picture with you?”
“Sure.” I grab her phone, making her draw a startled breath, then squish myself up next to them, smile at the camera, and snap a quick selfie. Then I hand the phone back to the girl, who still looks a bit shocked. “How’s that?”
She and her friend push their heads together, staring down at the photo with wide eyes. Then she looks up and says, “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”
“Anytime.”
A scanner comes available, and Remi steps toward it. I follow her, noting she still looks tense, and she’s not saying anything. She starts scanning items, and I reach out to put a hand on her waist, but she steps back suddenly.
My brow furrows. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Her blue eyes flick toward the girls, who are still whispering behind us. “Are you okay being seen like this?” she asks. “Like . . . with me?”
I’m not sure what my face does, but I must look confused, because Remi explains, “I just thought you’d want to . . . I don’t know, keep this private or something.”
Her cheeks are turning a bit pink now, and it’s way too fucking cute.
“Rem,” I say, and the nickname finally draws her gaze to mine. “I don’t want to keep anything about you hidden.”
She bites her bottom lip, hesitating at the scanner, and this time when I put my hand on her waist, she doesn’t pull away.
“But I’d understand if you don’t want to be seen with me.” I glance over my shoulder, and one of the girls immediately lowers her phone, making it super obvious that she was either recording me just now or taking photos.
Remi shakes her head. “No, it’s not that.”
My lips lift into a smile. “So, we’re good?”
With a small nod, she says, “Yeah, we’re good.”
“Awesome. Now let’s hurry up. I’m starving.”
We finish scanning everything from the cart, and Remi gives me a sideways smile when she sees the extra chips and candy bars I threw into the pile. Before she can pull her card out of her wallet, I guide her gently out of the way and tap the reader with my credit card.
“You bought last time,” I tell her. “This one’s on me.”
She slides her wallet back into the black purse slung across her shoulders. “Okay. Thanks.”
Together, we carry our paper bags out to her Jeep and load them into the back. Then we climb in, and as Remi starts the engine, I take a second to just look at her.
“What are you staring at?” she says as she guides the Jeep out of the parking lot and onto one of the busy roads.
“You.” My fingers find her cheek, and she leans subtly into my touch, though she keeps her gaze on the road. “I’m trying to memorize you.”
She bites her lip again, and I get the urge to do the same thing, to trap her lip between my teeth and never let go, but we’ll have to wait until she’s not driving for that.
“You don’t have to,” she says finally, voice soft, almost tenuous. “I’m right here.”
I’m right here.
I twirl a lock of her long hair around my finger, and in my chest, my heart squeezes.
She’s right here, I tell myself.
But despite the very real Remi sitting right in front of me, I can’t help the need to study her, to try to ingrain every detail into my memory.
Because even though she’s here right now, I know that she won’t always be, and when I board my plane tomorrow and head back to the coast, I want to carry every single one of these moments with me.