Page 60 of P.S. I Miss You

Shifting into drive, I head down the street, glancing back in my mirror, to catch her standing on the sidewalk, watching me drive away.

“HI!” I GIVE TUCKER a wave when I spot him in the living room Friday morning.

His hazel eyes snaps onto mine and then back to the TV. He doesn’t wave. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t care to look at me longer than he has to.

Shoot.

I bet he thinks I left with Nick in an adult sort of way …

Taking the spot beside him, I nudge his shoulder with mine and manage to work a smidgeon of a half-smile out of him.

“How’s Sutter?” I ask.

I thought about him all night, in those still, small moments when Nick and I weren’t laughing and reminiscing. It’s like he was always there, in the background of my mind. I wonder if he stayed up all night tossing and turning, trying to figure out why I left with Nick and didn’t come home. Knowing Sutter, he assumed the worst.

I mean, I stood there on the sidewalk today, watching as he drove off after I know he saw me.

I could’ve texted him last night in an attempt to quell his worries, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous. And something like that deserves more than a casual text. That’s why I was hoping I’d catch him before he left today …

“Why do you care?” Tucker signs.

“Because I do,” I say with my hands.

“You like Nick.”

“Nick is my best friend,” I sign. “I don’t want to date him.”

But I don’t want to get into this with a kid. I hook my hand on his shoulder and rise to a stand. I need to shower. I need to finish packing the rest of my things into my second suitcase. I need to start going over my script. I need to make sure I have everything I need for Murphy since he’s coming with me.

Heading upstairs, I take a five-minute shower and brush my teeth. Wrapping my pink towel around me, I pop the lock and head across the hall back to my room.

It’s then that I spot a note on white, lined paper, folded in half on my nightstand.

Melrose,

That thing you asked me Tuesday night? You wanted to know if I ever thought about what it’d be like to date you.

Just thought you should know.

Sutter

Oh my god.

He likes me back.

I press the letter against my damp skin, hands trembling and heart thrumming in my chest. But the erratic rhythm in my chest nearly comes to a complete stop when I turn and find him standing in my doorway.

“Melrose,” he says.

I take in a sharp breath, wanting to run to him, but my body is paralyzed.

“You came back.”

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN JACKSON STREET and Mondavi Boulevard, it hit me: my entire life I’ve cut my losses. I’ve walked away from people who weren’t worth a goddamn. And I haven’t a single regret.

But those people aren’t Melrose.

And if I walk away from her, if I write her off and throw in the towel … I’m going to regret it.

Maybe she’s in love with her childhood best friend and maybe I don’t stand a chance, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t fight for her.

For us.

We belong together.

“You came back.” Melrose clutches my letter in her hand. Our stares hold. “Is this true?”

I bite my lip for a second, trying not to let her smooth, bare shoulders or the thin towel wrapping her curved body invite any distractions.

“Do you love him?” I answer her question with one of my own. “Are you in love with Nick?”

Her glassy eyes crinkle at the sides and her head tilts. “No. No, Sutter. I’m not in love with him.”

I release a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“I thought I was … but it took meeting you to realize I wasn’t. The way I felt about you meant something different. Something more. It wasn’t the same.”

She sits the letter down, tightens her towel, and paces toward me. Her dusty blue eyes peer up at me through a spray of thick lashes.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” she says.

“I know.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks. “Now?”

I reach for her face, cupping her soft cheek in my hand and angling her lips toward mine. A moment later, I trace my mouth against hers before stealing a kiss. The taste of mint lingers on her tongue as it darts against mine, and with each breathless second, her body surrenders against me.

I kick the door shut behind us and feel the smile in her kiss.

“Does that answer your question?” I ask, scooping her into my arms and carrying her to the bed.

Melrose lets her towel fall, exposing the curves and angles and smooth lines that make up her delicate body, and I position myself above her, sliding my hand along her left outer thigh as she straddles me from below.

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