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“Austin? Is that where you got the middle name from?”
I shrugged. “You don’t have any siblings. He seemed like the next best thing.”
Charlotte laughed and pulled my head back down to hers. All thoughts of packing, middle names, and even dinner, forgotten.
Epilogue
Charlotte
I returned from Holly Ridge mid-afternoon on December 31st. Hayden’s flight was getting into Dulles soon, but getting through customs and back to the city from outside the Beltway was going to take a while. I had offered to pick him up, but considering we’d both turn around and climb in another taxi, he insisted he meet me back at our place. Our place. That still didn’t seem real. It was weird not being with Hayden the past few weeks, but it was good too—to be home, seeing my parents and a happily-engaged Blaire and a still-chronically-single Austin. It felt like I was leaving Holly Ridge on the right terms when I boarded my flight this time around. I knew I could go back anytime I wanted to.
It was for the best I had a little time before Hayden arrived. I wanted to put together a few surprises for him. The stuff I’d ordered from Whole Foods—champagne, charcuterie, and New Year’s hats, crowns and noisemakers—had been waiting at the concierge desk. I put on some jazz music, which just felt right for New Year’s Eve, and moved around the apartment, setting things up. I pulled the gifts I brought back with me out of my luggage and wrapped them, putting them under the artificial tree Hayden had insisted we get before I left for Holly Ridge, even though neither of us would be here to see it on actual Christmas. “It’s our condo’s first Christmas,” Hayden had argued, “we can’t leave it naked without a Christmas tree.”
I suppose someone had to be not naked in this condo. I certainly hoped Hayden and I wouldn’t be clothed for too long after he walked in the front door.
Hayden texted he had touched down on the runway at Dulles, and I took that as my cue to get in the shower and wash the airport germs off my skin. I curled my hair and put on a black skater dress with a low scoop neck. I usually wore tights with this number, especially in the winter because the skirt was pretty short, but I knew exactly what I was trying to do in leaving them off. I considered leaving the underwear off too, but then decided if there was a fire and I had to evacuate, I wanted my ass to have some covering.
Before I knew it, Hayden had texted he was on his way up, and I gave up any pretense of keeping my cool. I waited by the front door and threw my arms around his neck as soon as the door was open the whole way, sending him stumbling sideways into his luggage and the door jam.
“Hi there, babe,” he said, his voice betraying his laughter as he wrapped his free hand around my waist, the other holding onto a few gift bags.
“Hi,” I said into his neck. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
The lack of teasing about my overenthusiastic greeting let me know just how much he meant it.
I stepped back, running my hand down his arm to tangle my fingers with his, not quite ready to stop touching him yet, but ready to let him enter the apartment.
“So, how was your flight?” I asked, grabbing his suitcase with my other hand. “Also, how do you smell so Hayden-y after nine hours on a plane?”
Hayden set the bags on the island, and I followed his lead, nestling the roller bag under the lip of the counter. We’d unpack later.
Hayden’s cheeks were a bit pink. “I may have stashed a travel vial of my cologne in my carry-on so I could spritz before I came up here. I know you like the scent.”
I laughed. “You old softy. I love that. C’mere.”
I pulled him in by the hand I still held and his lips met mine, locking something back into place that had been missing since I last saw him. Our kisses were slow and searching, the kind you shared when you knew you had all night.
“So,” I mumbled against Hayden’s mouth a few moments later. “Any of those gifts for me?”
Hayden pulled away, laughing. “They might be. So, gifts first, even though you’re giving me all sorts of temptation in that skirt?”
I shimmied my hips, swishing the short skirt back and forth.
“Maybe you can consider this your final present?” God, how cliché were we?
Hayden’s eyes heated. I guess cliché worked for us.
“I can work with that. Can I at least put them under the tree first?” Hayden turned to face the tree, the white lights softly glowing against the sliding door of the balcony.
“Or maybe not. I’m not sure I want my low-maintenance wrapping job next to those masterpieces of packages.”
I pushed him gently toward the living room.
“It’s an occupational hazard. We offer gift wrapping at the store every year. I got to brush up on my skills this month.”
“How is the store? Are your parents still all in on the co-op owned idea?”
