Chapter Fourteen
LEWIS STARES at his fingers on the steering wheel, wedding ring still gleaming on his left hand, when he parks at the departures drop-off at Harry Reid International Airport.
“Well.” Next to him, Tad clears his throat. “Um, thanks. For the ride. And… yeah.”
“Yeah,” Lewis echoes. “I mean, thank you . Not for the ride, I guess. But”—he waves a hand vaguely—“coming.”
Tad’s mouth twitches and Lewis guesses he could have made that less innuendo-y.
Tad swivels, gets caught on the seat belt, and fumbles to unbuckle it. When it rattles back over his shoulder, he sucks in a breath—and holds it, staring at Lewis.
Lewis tells himself not to think. About anything. Especially not about the spangle of freckles across Tad’s cheekbones and nose or how the light catches his eyes and turns them aquamarine.
“I guess I’ll see you in New York,” Tad says. “For the paperwork.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
They didn’t talk about when just for right now ended. They made out in bed this morning. And had sex again. How was Lewis supposed to resist sucking Tad’s cock one more time?
But now they’re on the cusp of this thing between them being over. They had fun. A lot of fun. It just can’t continue, because Lewis can’t trust himself. And Tad hasn’t tried to convince him that actually, he’s not like Lewis’s exes at all. Lewis is so messed up that he doesn’t know if that proves Tad would be good for him or bad.
“So.” Tad’s fingers fidget. “I should probably get going.”
Lewis is tempted to suggest hanging out once he returns the car and gets through security. He’s going to have time to kill since his flight isn’t until the afternoon.
Except the way Tad keeps fidgeting and chewing on his cheek makes Lewis think he just wants to get this over with. Clean break. Walk away. Meet for coffee at home to go over the paperwork and part ways until the divorce hearing.
Tad probably has the right idea. If Lewis lets himself think, he’ll think about how sad he feels right now, and how much he doesn’t want a clean break, and how his feelings for Tad aren’t just-for-right-now feelings.
“Do you need help with your bag?” Lewis asks like an idiot. Tad’s been carrying the backpack around for a week. Of course he doesn’t need help. It’s just, Lewis doesn’t want to stop talking, because when they stop talking, it means Tad’s going to leave.
“I’m okay.” Tad watches Lewis for a second, then cuts his eyes toward the window. His fingers hook around the door handle. “Well, text me when you want to do the paperwork—”
“Wait!” Lewis’s hand closes around Tad’s wrist. Tad stops. “Wait,” Lewis repeats, and swallows hard. “I just—I had a lot of fun. It was great. I’m not sure I’ll ever go camping again because it won’t measure up.”
The last part makes him turn red. It’s true, though.
Tad’s face softens, which does something funny to Lewis’s chest. “You should go camping again,” Tad says.
Maybe we could go together sometime is what Lewis wants to say. The old Lewis would have—the Lewis who cannonballed into every relationship, even when the water was clearly over his head.
“Maybe.”
Tad holds his gaze. His eyes look glassy, but he blinks quickly, says, “Bye, Lewis,” and gets out of the car. After a second, the trunk slams shut and Tad walks away, backpack slung over his shoulder.
Move , says the part of Lewis’s brain that came up with the Dating Break. The smart, logical part. The part that’s looking out for him. Keeping him from getting hurt again. Drive the fuck away .
Instead, he’s still sitting there when Tad stops at the door, his eyes scanning the cars. When he spots Lewis, their gazes meet. Tad blows him a kiss.
Then he’s gone.
IT’S BETTER this way.
Lewis returns the car and goes back to the terminal. He checks his bag and goes through security. He tells himself it isn’t weird that he scans the Departures board to find Tad’s flight, and that just because he knows what gate Tad’s at doesn’t mean he’s going to go find him.
Anyway, as he’s standing there trying to figure out which direction Gate D37 is, the status on the flight flips from ON-TIME to BOARDING. So now he can’t, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t, because he’s letting go.
His flight doesn’t leave until two thirty, so he has a few hours to kill. In a gift shop, he picks up a snow globe for Stacy filled with gold glitter dollar signs instead of plastic snow and a sweatshirt for his sister. At one of the probably fifteen Starbucks in the airport, he grabs a Frappuccino and a cake pop for himself, and one of those Been There mugs for his mom. And in a tacky, touristy art store, he finds a hideous mashup of the Vegas Strip and Van Gogh’s Starry Night , which his dad will love.
His flight still doesn’t board for two hours.
Ugh.
He wanders past the Departures board again. Tad’s flight is listed as DEPARTED. That’s good. It left on time.
Does Tad have someone to pick him up at JFK? Or is he going to get a taxi? He doesn’t have family in New York, and he never mentioned any friends. Lewis doesn’t like to think of Tad sitting by himself in a taxi, even though thousands of people sit alone in taxis every day. It’s just. Tad doing it. That feels bad.
Goddammit, he has to stop thinking about Tad.
To distract himself, he texts his sister to confirm she’s still picking him up. She’ll complain, but she owes him, because he’s been going with her to her IVF appointments.
Then he can’t think of anything else to do, so he walks to his gate. He tries to walk slowly, but he’s gay, so slow to him is still fast compared to everyone else. At his deserted gate, he flops down in a seat, eats his cake pop, and drinks his Frappuccino.
His phone buzzes. Probably Taylor telling him about her latest Ddfjakdf;dakfj wow Lewis
Park Slope or Williamsburg
Trick question. Neither
Rofl
They keep texting, the game giving way to talking. Tad makes Lewis giggle with his descriptions of fellow plane passengers; Lewis tells Tad about the presents he got for Stacy and his family. They talk about stuff they have to do once they’re home and before heading back to work on Monday. They talk about what that one thing is that you can only get in New York and that you don’t think about until you’re somewhere else where you can’t get it.
“We’d like to welcome aboard our first-class passengers traveling to JFK,” rings out, and Lewis’s head jerks up. The gate area has filled. People are milling around, and a line is forming at the boarding door. What? Where did the time go?
He glances at his phone. Tad’s last message is sitting unanswered: I’m going to the New York Botanical Garden next weekend so that will be fun. Still bummed I didn’t get to visit any of the big gardens in Vegas
Lewis keeps hesitating, because what he wants to say is, I’ll bring you to them someday.
Which is stupid.
Instead, he says, I’ve never been to the NY Botanical Garden
Boring. He rolls his eyes at himself. Then, he types, Random question, do you have a ride home from the airport?
There’s a lot of typing, but all that comes back is No
Lewis has to put his phone away, because his boarding group gets called. He doesn’t know why he asked about Tad having a ride. What does it matter? It’s not like he’s going to give Tad a ride. Like, he would . But his flight hasn’t even left yet, and Tad will be landing soon. So that’s stupid.
When he finds his seat, he gets his phone out again. Tad hasn’t said anything else and Lewis feels a curl of anxiety. Shit, he said something wrong. That’s why Tad was typing and typing—and obviously deleting—for so long before his one-word answer.
I guess it doesn’t really matter but I’d give you a ride if I could
There’s no answer, and eventually Lewis has to turn on airplane mode. Once they’re airborne and Wi-Fi is available, he thinks about going on it to see if Tad texted back. But what if Tad didn’t text back?
If Tad never texted back, then he’s doing what they agreed. They’re not going to be a thing anymore. It won’t work. Tad not texting back is Tad saving Lewis from himself.
He throws his headphones on, puts on his For Planes playlist, and closes his eyes. Apparently he dozes off, because before he knows it, the flight attendants are coming down the aisle cleaning up.
When the plane lands, Lewis turns his phone back on to text Taylor, who assures him she’s on her way. They arrive at the gate and start to disembark, and all the notifications, emails, and texts he missed while his phone was off come through.
There’s a notification from Tad.
Heart leaping, Lewis opens the text and reads.
Hey sorry we were landing and the wifi cut out
You’re sweet about the ride but I’ll be ok
Do YOU have a ride?
You must be on the plane
Ok I swear I’m not a stalker but I just checked your flight and yeah you’re on the plane
So that’s good, I hope you’re having a good flight
I’m in my cab now
Omg how weird is this, guess what he’s playing
If you said “Britney Spears’s magnum opus, Blacklight” you would be correct
Are we in the Matrix?
He’s playing the WHOLE album. Amazing
He’s starting it over!!!!
I gave him a really good tip
Ok I’m back at my apartment again. My cat says hi. Did I ever even tell you I have a cat? Her name is Hetty Wainthropp
Hey so I didn’t have the guts to say this when you dropped me off this morning but I hope we can still be friends
You are a cool guy Lewis Mancini-Sommer
So yeah
Wow sorry for bombarding you with texts. You probably won’t want to be friends when you get all these
Lewis can’t describe the feeling in his chest. He’s not sure he’s ever had this before, this ballooning joy and laughter and happiness and giddy bubbles roiling under the surface of his skin.
Just landed at JFK, I just saw your messages
I would love to still be friends
Also send a picture of your cat
Less than a minute goes by. Then, from Tad: a smiling emoji.