Chapter 14
HENRY CAVILL AND AN AIRPORT BATHROOM
Sera
“So, how do we do this, then?” I ask with more vulnerability in my voice than I planned for.
Thane takes a deep breath in, and I see for the first time how hard this is for him too. “I guess we start by setting some ground rules?”
I nod slowly. “That sounds good. To make it fair, I’ll set some, and you set some.”
“Okay. Rule number one: be honest about feelings,” he starts.
Crap. I’m already breaking number one.
“Rule number two,” I chime in, “no flirting, kissing, or romance. I know that this will be a hard one for you, since you’re a pathological flirt.”
“I am not,” he protests with a cocky grin.
“Yes you are, you’re doing it now!”
“I can’t help that I’m charming and smoldery.”
I roll my eyes so hard they nearly fall out of their sockets and land in my lap.
He laughs and adds, “Okay, fine. Then you can’t be all cute and fiery.”
“You think I’m cute and fiery?”
Thane groans in exasperation. “Seriously, Fina? How am I supposed to answer that? If I lie, I’m breaking rule number one. And if I tell the truth, I’m breaking rule number two.”
“Admitting you think I’m cute and fiery is flirting?”
“Yes, because it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I can’t say it without grinning like a fool.”
My heart fumbles all over itself, and I look away to hide my own smile.
“See? You like it. I like it. Flirting with each other is part of our thing,” he insists, and I can’t argue.
“Rule number three,” he says slowly, “because apparently we can’t control the chemistry between us, we keep our time together in groups. That is, except for this road trip, because we didn’t really have a choice in that one—unless you want to pick up a hitchhiker.”
He’s right. There’s no way we can deny the magnetism we have for each other. Safety in numbers is the only way to put a leash on it.
I laugh. “Yes to chaperones, no to the hitchhiker idea. I don’t feel like being turned into a skin-suit today.
“Rule number four: avoid talking about our past—except for platonic memories—until we’re both ready to discuss it,” I say, although I know that I’m the one holding the dam back on this one.
Before he can jump in and add another rule, more words stumble out of my mouth before I lose my nerve.
“And rule number five: give each other the opportunity to move on.”
I watch his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat slowly as he swallows what I’ve said.
His eyes cast downward for a second before returning to the road.
It hurts me to say it as much as it hurts him to hear it, and I almost regret throwing it out there.
I pause, letting the tension settle between us, and pray that he will be the one to break the silence. Or, better yet, veto rule number five.
But he doesn’t.
He nods painfully and says, “Okay,” with a cracked voice. His voice is so quiet and full of defeat that I question whether I heard him correctly. “Whatever you need, Fina,” he finishes, then exits the freeway. “I need a pit stop.”
He pulls into the first gas station we come to and gets out in silence. The doors to the convenience store shut behind him before I can even unbuckle, and I sit there, stunned.
Guilt presses down in my gut. “What have I done?” I whisper to myself.
When he comes back out, he has two bottles of soda and two gas station burritos in his hands. I check my face in the mirror and decide to disguise my red eyes with sunglasses. He climbs in, leans over the console, and hands me a Cherry Pepsi and a hot burrito.
“I thought you might be hungry, and I owe you a soda since I left yours behind in Philly yesterday.”
“Thank you,” I say, humbled by his thoughtfulness.
I force myself to focus on my burrito wrapper to avoid the inevitable thawing of my heart that has already started.
Despite the complications between us, his warmth has the power to draw me in like it always has.
And if we lock eyes, I’ll relive a hundred memories in a moment—which is something I can’t afford to do right now.
My breath hitches and I want more than anything to bridge the chasm of pain spanning between us.
But the only way I know how to do that is to ignore the hurt and move forward, so I do.
“I didn’t think I’d ever be hungry again after Pearl’s biscuits and gravy, but for some reason, I’m starving!” I say as I take a bite. “So, what do you want to talk about first?”
He dives into his burrito as well and pulls toward the freeway. After he chews and swallows, he says, “I want to hear about this Brad character.” He holds his hand up to stop my protest, then adds, “And in return, I’ll tell you about the time I met Henry Cavill.”
An involuntary grin lights up my face, and he knows he’s got me hook, line, and sinker.
“If you’re going to hold my Henry hostage like that, then fine, I’ll take the bait. What do you want to know about me and Bradley? And no weird questions. Stick to the basics.”
“Did you love him?”
“Aaand, you’re coming out swinging,” I say with an uncomfortable laugh. When his stare is unmoving, I relent. “I guess I loved the idea of him.”
“Yet you stayed with him for, what, a year? Why?”
“Well…” I pause to find the best way to respond, “because it was better than being alone?” My voice rises at the end and I cringe, because hearing myself admit it out loud makes the shame real.
“I know that sounds so shallow, but you know as well as I do that the city will swallow a person whole. Sometimes it’s just nice knowing that someone cares. ”
“Then why did you break up with him?”
My eyes fall to my lap, and my burrito turns to ash in my mouth.
“Let me guess. He had eyebrows that were too bushy? Wait, no. He had weird elbows. Is that it?” he presses, lightening the mood a bit.
I remember that once upon a time, Thane was the only person I didn’t feel judgment from, so I gather up my itty-bitty courage and let the words fall out before I turn tail and run.
“More like a cheating problem.”
Thane’s face scrunches up in disgust.
“Despicable, huh? I can’t even keep a guy semi-interested in me,” I say, keeping my gaze cemented on my shaky hands.
“You really think it’s your fault that he’s a horrible guy? Don’t you dare blame yourself for his stupidity. You’re incredible, and anyone who can’t see that is an idiot.”
I force a smile, but I don’t believe him.
“Well, anyway, long story short, I am no longer taking his calls.”
“Good for you,” he says, clinking his burrito with mine in solidarity.
“Enough about Bradley. I’d like to put him in my rearview and never look back. But what I am interested in is this meet-cute you have with my celebrity boyfriend Henry Cavill.”
Thane laughs and chews another bite of his burrito. “He made me so late for a flight in Spain, I had to bribe the gate agent to hold the door and let me in.”
“I imagine you pushed everything to the last minute to begin with.”
“Of course I did,” he shrugs, “but I didn’t miss my flight, so it was on time enough for me.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “It would be so stressful to travel with you.”
“You are traveling with me.”
“No wonder I feel so tense,” I joke.
“But the thing is, if I hadn’t been running behind, I wouldn’t have met Henry Cavill in the airport bathroom.”
“I’m going to need some proof besides your word.”
“You want photos? Here,” he says, handing me his phone. “The passcode is three, four, six, two, eight, eight. Open the photo album, ‘Once in a Lifetimes.’”
I side-eye him suspiciously. “You’re going to trust me with your passcode?”
“Why not?”
“Bradley would never tell me his.”
“That’s a bit of a red flag, isn’t it?” he asks.
“In hindsight, yes.”
My jaw drops as I scroll through his highlight reel of photo albums, but when I land on the photo of him and Henry, an audible gasp and subsequent fangirling escapes me.
“HE’S EVEN WEARING HIS GLASSES!” I squeal, covering my face with my hoodie sleeves. “This is the best photo ever! I’m sending it to myself.”
Before he can protest, the tiny ‘bloop’ sound of it bouncing from his phone to mine chimes. I open my messages and do a little happy dance in my seat as I save it to my photos.
“I thought for sure you were pulling my leg!”
“Oh, I know not to joke around about Henry to you.”
“I can’t believe you met him! In the bathroom, no less…” My eyebrows knit together. “Who says hello to someone in a bathroom, though? That’s creepy, Thane. Even for you.”
“I’m going to pretend that wasn’t an insult. He actually spoke to me first.”
My eyes shoot over to his. “No way.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter if you’re the Man of Steel or not. When you run out of TP, you run out of TP.”
I laugh out loud. “Did you get his autograph?”
“Yeah. He signed a roll of toilet paper.”
I sigh dreamily. “Of course he did. He’s so witty and nerdy under all that hotness, which makes him ten times hotter.”
“Then the little snort that came out when he laughed about it would’ve killed you on the spot.”
I can’t stop the excitement bubbling out of me. “One hundred percent deceased.”
Thane smiles and shakes his head. “The moral of the story is, sometimes you just have to let life come as it does. A whole slew of mishaps happened that day on the way to the airport. Had I been freaking out and in a complete rush, I wouldn’t have had the time to help a person in need.
That person just so happened to be the only man on your Hall Pass, so luck was truly in my favor that day.
But the lesson remains: sometimes you just have to let life control itself so that the experiences you’ve only ever dreamed of can catch up to you. ”
I sit back in my seat and stare at the photo on my phone, letting his words sink in.
“Hmmmm. That’s pretty profound for such a bonehead as yourself,” I tease, and nudge his elbow.
“See? I’m more than just a pretty face,” he says.
He takes the last bite of his burrito and crumples up the wrapper.
I crumple mine, take his wrapper, and throw them both in the grocery bag garbage can. “My turn to ask you a question. The Henry story doesn’t count.”