Page 77 of Meant to be Mine

“You okay?” she asked against my chest.

“Yeah,” I lied. “Just tired.”

She pulled back enough to look up at me. “You sure?”

I kissed her instead of answering. She kissed me back, tasting like peppermint. I tried not to think about how many more times I’d get to do this. How many days we had left. When we broke apart, I kept my forehead pressed against hers.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “Go eat everything in this city like I promised.”

“I need to get dressed first.”

“Take your time. I’ll watch.”

She laughed and shook her head before disappearing into the bedroom. I walked back to the window and looked out at the bay. A sailboat was cutting across the water.

I had time. That’s what I kept telling myself. We had the rest of the summer. Two more events to get through, the yacht party and the Sidewalk Market. After that, maybe I could take some real time off. Not a long weekend or a quick trip. Real time. We could drive up the coast like we’d always talked about. Stop in all those little towns. Sleep in and eat too much and not think about what came next.

I could give us that much. A few weeks where it was just us and the road and no obligations. It wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t change the fact that she had to go back and I had to stay. But maybe it would be enough to carry me through a month or two or three. Maybe I could fit a lifetime’s worth of memories into a few weeks and that would have to be enough.

I was kidding myself. It wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough. But I’d take what I could get.

Kensey emerged a few minutes later in jeans and a loose top, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked perfect. Her skin glowed. Whatever the spa ladies had done, it had been worth every penny.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Ready,” I said.

We grabbed an Uber and headed to the Mission District. We stopped at a small Mexican place that didn’t look like much from the outside but I’d been there once with Callum years ago and never forgot it.

The place was packed when we walked in, all exposed brick and string lights. The smell of cilantro and lime was so strong it made my mouth water. We squeezed into a small table near the back.

“This place is loud,” Kensey said, leaning across the table so I could hear her.

I grinned at her. “Wait until you taste the food. There’s a reason it’s so packed in here.”

The server appeared and I ordered for both of us without asking. Kensey trusted me. And if it turned out I had ordered her a dish she didn’t like, she would happily bust my chops about it, like a good friend.

“So,” she said, folding her arms on the table. “Tell me about the tech bros.”

“Do I have to?”

“You made a face when you walked in,” she said with a smile. “Maybe you’re the one who needs a massage.”

I laughed. “They had a kombucha bar in the lobby.”

“Oh no. I’m sure that’s a fun smell when you first walk in.”

“And beanbag chairs,” I said.

“Stop it.”

“I’m serious. It felt like I was in a college dorm.”

Our massive strawberry margaritas arrived first. “Holy shit,” she hissed. “That thing is huge.”

“Hell yeah. We have the night off. Drink up, baby.”

Kensey playfully raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Blackwell?”