Page 18 of Sinful Skulls
“You didn’t promise.”
She blinks rapidly. “I promise.”
We load up her car, and before we know it, we’re at the airport.
The conversation remains light throughout breakfast, and we exchange numbers.
“You call me if you need anything, got it?”
“I will.” She stares out the window watching the planes. “Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?”
I shrug. “That’s the exciting thing about life. We never know where the universe will guide us. I mean, shit, I was on a random beach helping my buddy on a wild goose chase, and boom! I found the prettiest girl in the universe.”
She smiles and dips her head. “I’m always going to hold this past week in my heart. No matter where I go.”
“Me too.”
I look at my watch. “You should get to your gate.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
I walk her as far as I can go, give her one last kiss …
And then I watch a piece of my heart walk away.
Fuck, life hurts sometimes.
Chapter Eight
Daisy
That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I sit on the plane, fighting like hell to remain in my seat. I have a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach I can’t seem to shake.
My thoughts are about to spiral into a full-blown panic attack when my phone dings. I look at the screen. It’s one word.
Brody: Breathe.
I laugh out loud, startling the lady next to me. “I’m sorry.”
“No worries, honey.”
Brody’s message manages to calm my racing thoughts. I take a deep breath. Everything is okay. I’m going on a new adventure. There’s nothing to fear.
Me: Thanks for the reminder.
I rub my finger over his message, take another breath, and then switch my phone over to airplane mode.
The rest of my traveling goes smoothly. I send both Brody and my parents a quick message when I make it safe and sound to my dorm room.
My roommate and I hit it off right away, and the rest of the week goes by in a blur. It’s amazing being in Paris, but I find myself pulling up Brody’s name more often than I thought I would. We agreed to go cold turkey after I let him know I made it.
Since I can’t talk to him, I start writing to him in my notes. I know it’s strange, but it helps.
Monday morning, I wake up excited for classes to begin. Carly, my roomie, and I are having lunch in the courtyard when she covers her mouth and giggles. “Oh my god, Dean Baxter is staring at us.”
“Where?”
She shifts in her seat. “You don’t know who he is?” she asks, shaking her head like that’s the craziest thing in the world.
