Track 31. How You Get the Girl
RACHEL
Iwaved at my dad and Stella as their cab headed for the airport several days later. When I couldn’t see them anymore, I walked to the gift shop that was closest to the ship, ready to collect final souvenirs before boarding again.
Tossing a new set of postcards into my basket, I walked over to the wall of monogrammed pens and searched for Ethan’s name. When I found it, I picked up a matching hoodie and hat as well.
Since I had phone service here, I was planning to use my final half hour to respond to some of the text messages he’d sent.
Or maybe I should call. Maybe I should call from the ship, so we can talk longer than thirty minutes.
Debating, I headed for the checkout line and set my stuff on the counter.
“So, you really weren’t going to write me back?” A familiar deep voice said from behind. “You weren’t going to contact me at all?”
What? I turned around and found myself face to face with Ethan. His sexy blue eyes gleamed under the lights, and his lips curved up into a smile.
My heart damn near jumped out of my chest as he looked me up and down.
“I’m happy that you’re here and not in Moscow,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Otherwise, I would’ve had to wait to see you in China next month.”
“You would’ve flown there just to see me?”
“In a heartbeat.”
We stared at each other, and all the words I thought I wanted to say suddenly left my brain.
“Miss?” The cashier called. “Miss, do you want me to ring up your things?”
“She does,” Ethan said, stepping past me and handing her his credit card.
We said nothing as she took her time scanning and bagging my souvenirs, and when she was finished, Ethan handed me the bag and slipped his arm around my waist—walking me outside.
He led me over to a bench, but he didn’t sit down. He just stared at me.
Not wanting to waste any of my remaining minutes, I let out a breath. “I was going to write you back. I just finished writing five letters this morning, and I was about to call or text you. I was still trying to see which one made more sense, so it wasn’t like—”
“I fucking love you, Rachel.” He interrupted my spiel. “I love you.”
My heart sped up and he pressed his finger against my lips.
“You heard me,” he said, smiling. “You don’t have to ask me what I just said, but because I know you’ll still need to hear it again …” He kissed my forehead. “I love you, Rachel Dawson, and I’ve loved you since I was seven and a half years old.”
My eyes widened.
He ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry for not thinking about you when I signed off to go to New York for a program I didn’t even want to go to. That was beyond selfish, and you were right about me doing it for someone else’s approval.”
“Did you just say that you’ve loved me since we were seven and half years old?”
“Yes.” He pulled me close and kissed me until I couldn’t breathe.
“Let me finish …” He waited until I’d caught my breath, then he rubbed his hands against my back.
“I’m sorry for not telling you about New York first, for not being willing to stay like you were.
” He paused. “And I know you’re about to get back on your ship, but I want you to know that I’m willing to go wherever you go from here on out to show you how much you’ve always meant to me.
And as much as I enjoy writing you letters, I’d much rather see you in person every day. ”
“I’ll be done in a few months,” I said, smiling as he kissed me again. “And I can give you my updated port schedule.” I opened my purse and pulled out a copy of the new port stops.
As he took it from my hands, a sound I knew all too well interrupted our moment.
The ten bells at the top of the Eurodam rang out loud and clear, signaling that the ship was about to prepare to leave the port in exactly ten minutes.
As if Ethan knew what the sound meant as well, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me like this was the last time, as if we were never going to see each other again, and he wanted to cement this moment into my memory.
Pulling away from me, he kissed my forehead and sighed. “I really would prefer if we saw each other in person every day.”
“Me, too.” I hugged him. “I’ll call you the second the phone room opens today, and I’ll send out those five letters, too.”
Seven bells rang.
He smiled and stepped back. “I’ll see you at your next port.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Really.”
Unable to resist, I kissed his lips one more time before running toward the ship—looking over my shoulder every few seconds, until I couldn’t see him through the crowd anymore. When I made it aboard, I rushed to my room to search for my telephone access card.
As I was rummaging through my top drawer, the last bell rang and a knock came to my door.
“I’ll be at the roll call in one second!” I said, opening another drawer.
The knock came louder and I held back a groan as I walked over to the door.
“I said I’d be there in one second, I was just—” I gasped at the sight of Ethan in my doorway, blinking a few times to make sure this was real.
“Like I was saying,” he said, smirking. “I really would prefer if we saw each other every day, and I will be seeing you at every port from now on.”
“You’re completing your final semester at sea?”
“Hell no.” He smiled. “I already graduated, remember?” He handed me a thick binder.
“I took my girlfriend’s advice and looked up some Creative Writing programs. Turns out, there’s one that allows you to finish writing a novel at sea, as long as I teach two classes a week.
I’ve heard life on this ship is fucking miserable if you’re alone, so I’m hoping that if the love of my life is aboard, that won’t be true. ”
I felt tears falling down my face. “You have your own room?”
“No.” He kissed me. “I have a suite.” He looked behind me. “And from the looks of the size of your room, that’s where we’re going to be spending most of our time …”
I blushed, unable to do anything but stare at him.
“You may want to start making your way toward roll call,” he said, stepping forward and caressing my back. “I’ve heard that the new teacher who is in charge of it wants to get it over with as soon as possible, so he can get reacquainted with someone in his suite.”
“Are you talking about kissing?”
“I’m talking about fucking.” He laughed. “Well ‘making love’ as you prefer to say and read about.”
“I like reading about both.”
“Hmmm.” He kissed my forehead. “Well, seeing as though my current novel is a romance that has both, I’d appreciate your opinion.”
He pointed to the binder he’d given me, and I raised my eyebrow.
“You’re going to write a romance?” I flipped the binder over and saw the words, based on a true story. “If you’re putting a false sticker on your books to trick women like me into thinking this shit is based on a true story, I swear—”
“It is.”
“You’ve only been in one relationship where you’ve said the words, I love you, Ethan.”
“I’m aware of that, Rachel.”
“Okay …” I tapped my lip, not sure whether he was serious about writing a romance or not. “What type of trope is it?”
“Enemies to lovers. Or more like friends to lovers who think they’re enemies. It’s a pretty interesting story for you, I think.”
“Can’t wait to read it.” I smiled. “Do you have a working title?”
“I do.” His lips briefly met mine and he pulled me into the hallway, toward the room for roll call. “I think you’ll love that part most of all.”
“Would you like to tell me what it is?”
He didn’t have to answer. When I opened the binder, I saw it printed on the first page of the binder in huge bold print.
Forget You, Rachel
The End