Chapter Two Euan
I sit near the baggage claim, leg thumping restlessly, staring at my phone. My suitcase sits next to me, already picked up from the carousel. In fact, everyone from my flight—and the next two flights after that—have already picked up their luggage in the time I’ve waited for Nick’s reply.
Hey, baby. My flight’s landed, I’m just waiting to deplane.
Grabbed my luggage. Did you park or should I meet you at the drop off?
And then, fifteen minutes of silence later:
Is everything okay?
The two times I called him went to voicemail after several long, tense minutes of ringing. I kept my voice calm as I left a voicemail the first time, “Hey, Nick. It’s Euan. I’m at the airport now. When do you think you’ll arrive?” I didn’t bother to leave one the second time.
I’d cringe at my own behavior if Nick hadn’t volunteered to pick me up at the airport. After dating long distance for three months, we were finally supposed to meet in person. Is he not as excited about the idea as I am?
I think back on the conversation. Yes, I was the one who suggested flying out to see him. I work remote, so my job is more flexible, which means we could spend more than a long weekend together. How had he actually reacted? I remember him saying: “That’s a great idea!”
I just can’t remember what his face looked like at the time. Sometimes it’s hard to interpret expressions over video chat—I’ve been told more than once that I looked ‘angry’ or ‘disappointed’ when I was listening to my coworker’s input—but I thought he’d been genuinely excited.
We have the whole week planned out. His city isn’t exactly a hot tourist spot, but there are plenty of things to see: museums, parks, shopping centers. We’ve also planned rest days in between—though ‘resting’ might be the wrong word.
I can’t wait for you to touch every part of me, words whispered through a screen as Nick showed me exactly how he wanted me to touch him, trailing his hands over his chest. Down his stomach. Wrapping around the prize just out of view.
The TSA officer barely kept a straight face as he pulled three different vibrators from my luggage. I’m sure Nick has his own, but I prefer to use familiar tools on my partners. One of our planned stops is for a novelty sex shop over an hour away, where we can choose out some new things together.
But all those plans mean nothing if Nick doesn’t respond to my messages.
Sighing, I type out one more message to him.
Hope everything’s alright. I’m going to rent a car and head to a hotel. Please let me know if you need anything.
The ending is too formal, more like we’re colleagues than dating, but I don’t know what else to say.
I sling the strap of my laptop case over my shoulder, happy to have the familiar weight against my hip again. Then I grab my suitcase and walk toward one of the rental stands.
The last-minute expense doesn’t bother me as much as his silence. Although rental cars aren’t cheap, I’d initially planned to arrange one until Nick insisted it wasn’t necessary. “We’re spending the whole week together anyway! We can use my car.”
Just as I finish signing the paperwork and paying for the car, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
My lips twitch in a smile. Of course he has the worst timing.
A few minutes sooner would have saved me half a grand.
Oh well, it’s probably better to have a car anyway, in case whatever has delayed him happens again.
One employee hands me a key while another walks me to the car.
My phone continues buzzing at irregular intervals, new texts coming through rather than a call.
I ignore them, even as my worry increases.
I can’t tell if these are ‘oh shit, I’m so sorry, I’m on my way’ texts or if they’re something else.
As soon as my luggage is in the back and I’m settled in the driver’s seat, I open the new chain of messages.
The very first sentence makes my heart drop to my stomach.