Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Kit
I spend four months swearing under my breath that I’ll forget her. A single drunken evening researching the resort she mentioned visiting every summer. Two months reminding myself that it’s a bad—and quite frankly, creepy—idea to show up there when she’s most likely forgotten our kiss even happened.
One mulling over the fact that she invited me, after all.
At three months out, on a night of profound weakness, I book the flight.
A week before, I tell myself there’s still time to cancel the reservation. Who wants to go to some resort in the Gulf chasing a girl he can’t forget anyway? I’ve got two weeks of PTO to waste. I can go anywhere in the world.
But when the day comes, I’ll be damned if I don’t get on the plane.