Page 86 of Make Me Fall (Water, Air, Earth, Fire 2)

Jonah

I never did get to see him in jeans.

That’s what this is. He orchestrated a job offer and lost his case and somehow sprained my wrist all in an elaborate plot to get out of his promise to wear jeans. I wouldn’t put it past him.

Gray doesn’t want to leave his car at the airport, so we ride there in a yellow cab with the smell of weed baked into the seats, giving me a headache. I’ll see him off to Australia this morning, then sleep in a corner until my flight to Iowa tonight.

I can bend my fingers now, but I have to watch uselessly as he pulls all our bags out of the trunk and lines them up on the curb, his expensive and pristine and mine on the edge of falling apart. “Let me pull them for you.” He takes the handles of both suitcases.

“I’ll have to do it myself later.”

“Later isn’t now.”

He drags both bags briskly across the busy terminal, blending in with all the business travelers. My stomach sinks as I follow behind him, realizing there’s no way for us to pull both suitcases and hold hands. Nothing ever quite works, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t need me, even if he tells himself he does.

When I glance up, Gray has stopped, looking back at me in that soft way he’s had lately, all the hard edges worn away into something else I don’t quite understand. He stacks my suitcase sideways on top of his, then holds out his hand. “Come on.” The fucking brace gets in the way, but I can feel his fingers strong and secure between mine.

“I put a book in your bag,” I tell him. “It’s a legal thriller Elliott’s aunt gave him. I saw it on his shelf and thought you might like it.”

“You stole one of Elliott’s books and gave it to me?”

“He reads, like, one book a year outside of school; he’ll never notice.” I bump my shoulder against his. “I packed your Asian politics book, too. I don’t mind if you want to read ahead.”

“I could read some to you over video chat.”

I love the way that sounds, but I also hate it. This has to be why long-distance relationships die—doing elaborate shit like that, acting like it’s the same as being together for real, until you agree it’s too much work to be worth it. “Maybe.”

I didn’t bring any liquids this time, so all I have to do in security is remove my arm brace and run it through the machine. I want to leave it off, maybe even dunk it in the nearest garbage bin, but Gray gives me dirty looks until I let him strap it back on. We walk more slowly now, peeking in all the weird gift shops full of t-shirts and hats and stained-glass eagles and knock-off designer purses.

“Tell me what you’re going to do in Iowa.” He lets go of my hand and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me tight against him.

“Go to some basketball games at the high school. Fix shit around the house that’s broken. Watch the neighbor shovel our driveway since I can't fucking do it anymore.” I shrug. “Nothing like going to Australia.” No matter how hard I think about it, I can’t figure out how it can be winter in one place and summer in another, always opposite and never meeting. “Don’t get so focused on work that you forget to go to the beach.”

He chuckles. “You know me. I can’t promise.”

“Will you get me something?” It’s the tiniest, weakest thread, pretending this might not be forever.

“If you get me something from Iowa.”

I snort. “The hell am I supposed to get? There isn’t a fucking state gift shop. Oh shit, wait, I know.” I’d clap my hands if I had even a single one to work with. “My uncle has a tow hitch cover shaped like a nutsack. Should I find one for your Aston?”

“I don’t have a tow hitch.”

“You’ll just have to hang it from your rearview mirror.” I don’t want to smile, but my face has a mind of its own around him.

The woman supervising the desk at Gray’s crowded gate has a strong Australian accent. Sitting next to Gray, I listen to her, try to understand what she’s saying. Gray would sound sexy as hell talking like that. By the time it was as strong as hers, he probably wouldn’t even remember me.

I nudge him, trying to think of all the last things to say. “Your flight lands at midday local time, so you should get some lunch at the airport before you go to your first meeting. On the way to your hotel that evening, pick up some dinner, or at least some room service.”

He raises an eyebrow at me, a little dry smirk. “I do know how to keep myself alive.”

“Could have fooled me. You neglect yourself like you’re a three-year-old’s pet goldfish.”

“Yes, sir.” He casually flips the words I’ve said to him so many times, then pulls me in and presses his nose into my neck, below my ear. “I’m sorry I worry you so much. In return, you have to promise me you’ll keep your arm brace on and not push yourself.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he narrows his eyes and I close it again. “Fine. Fine, fine.” Rolling over in my chair, I squint out the window at the cold rivulets of water leaking slowly down the glass. The rain finally caught up with me, and it really is the same everywhere.

“We’re going to begin boarding now…”

---