“You really want to come to Seattle?”
“I do. I can stay for a few days and leave before Christmas. I want to see where you live. I want to see the places you go to spend your free time, meet some of your friends, see where you work… I even want to meet Bach.”
I smiled. “You want to meet my cat?”
Her face lit up. “I do! You’ve met Abbott. I think it’s only fair.”
I’d gone from wanting to beat the shit out of someone, to feeling like I just won the lottery in the span of five minutes.
“Come here.” I opened my arms, and she crawled over into my lap. I pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I would love to take you home with me.”
“Then let’s do it!”
I felt like the luckiest man alive. My girl was free and coming home with me. The only problem was: How the hell was I ever going to let her leave once she did? And would I ever be able to look my friend in the eye again?• • •Being at the airport with Hazel the next day felt downright nostalgic. It was as if the past couple of weeks had never happened, and we could just be Milo and Maddie Hooker again—in spirit, at least.
Hazel had booked the last available seat on my flight. Luck was on our side, and I could only hope that continued once we landed out west.
Last night, we’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, the shitty and exhausting experience she’d had over at Brady’s thwarting any potential of something happening in that hotel room. Which was for the best. Even though she was on an alleged break from Brady, I needed to proceed with caution. It ain’t over till it’s over.
As we stood in line to board, I still couldn’t believe she was coming home with me. It felt like a dream. Although, the fact that Brady kept calling her phone was the reality check and reminder that we were never really in La La Land anymore.
She kept letting his calls go to voicemail.
“What are you going to tell him?”
“You mean about where I’m traveling?”
“Yeah.”
She blew out a breath. “Right now, I’m avoiding having to lie to him. I’ll probably text him later, letting him know that I went away to think. There’s no good way to lie to anyone, but I told him I needed a break, so I’m not sure why he’s continuing to call.”
“Well, he probably regrets letting you walk away like that.”
A little pang of guilt hit me all of a sudden. That seemed to happen in waves. But then I’d remember what I knew about Brady cheating on her, and that would help curb the guilt. I still struggled with whether to tell her what I’d discovered. But ultimately, I knew why I hadn’t. I needed to make sure she made the decision she truly wanted in her heart without my influencing it. If she chose me only because of Brady’s infidelity, how would I ever know I was the one? The uncertainty would kill me.
If she ended up choosing him, I’d probably figure out a way to tell her, though—because once a cheater, always a cheater. I’d deal with that when the time came.
We were still standing in line when Hazel turned to me.
“So, what’s their story?”
I looked around at the swarms of people, remembering the game we used to play at airports. “Who’s our target today?”
She gripped my shirt and pulled me close. “These people. Us. What’s their deal?”
I paused. “Oh, these two crazy people? They’re running away for a while.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because their reality is crazier than any fantasy. But they handle life better when they’re together. And they missed that feeling.”
She smiled.
“He just hopes she doesn’t want to turn around and head back home when she realizes how small his apartment is.”
“I thought you were going to finish that sentence a different way.” Hazel laughed.
When it hit me what she was referring to, I smiled. “Oh no. My apartment is the only thing you’ll find too small. I can assure you of that.”Chapter 24* * *HazelDespite his warning, Matteo’s studio apartment was definitely smaller than I’d imagined. But because it had three windows, it didn’t feel so claustrophobic.
I looked around as he wheeled our suitcases to a corner.
“This place is cute.”
He raised his forehead. “Code word for tiny and stifling?”
To the left was a small kitchenette. To the right was the living area. A guitar stood upright against the wall, and a shelf housed dozens of vinyl records.
“It’s small...but it’s you.”
“Please don’t associate the word small with anything having to do with me.” He winked.
“Sorry.” I laughed. “What I meant is, it has your personality.”
“It’s what I can afford if I want to be in the middle of the action downtown. Most one-bedroom apartments in this area go for about triple the rent, so I figured I’d make due with a studio. It’s really only cramped when I have people over, which I rarely do.”