Angie, a live-in-the-now singer-songwriter on the cusp of fame, sweeps Mike, a proper Mama's boy and a structural engineer by day, off his feet the moment they shake hands.
They can't deny the chemistry between them, so they start with a boom. What'...
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▪️Saturday, January 3rd, 2018▪️
▪️Seattle, WA▪️
I didn't expect clear sunny skies when I flew to meet Angie in Seattle before her tour resumed. I forgot how much the weather changes my mood. Or is it the Angie effect? Day one and two flew by in a bubble of food, kissing everywhere we went, dancing at a club, talking in dinky dive bar, and drowning in the relentless desire that left me breathing harder than a sparring match. The worst part about my long weekend with Angie is that it has an end date.
"I'll miss you." I kiss her temple, and my lips are as warm as her skin. She smells of bananas and coconuts—the perfumed sunscreen she slathered all over her face the moment we arrived at this beach. Seattle in December doesn't have what I call a bikini weather, but the unusually sunny day and an extra layer of scarfs and hats we're both pros with after living in Chicago makes it plenty warm for us to sit on the bench at the pier and watch the crashing waves, the strolling people, and a group practicing Tai-Chi.
"I'll miss you so much, we'll have to video chat every day. Texting is just not enough. Even then I'll miss you." I press another kiss into her unblemished skin.
"No, no, no. We are not talking about that. I forbid you to utter the word miss. Take it out of your vocabulary."
"Miss. Miss. Miss." I laugh as I shout the words at her, even though I want to squeeze her tight and never let her go.
Angie sticks her fingers into her ears. "La, la, la." She sings and examines the clear cloudless sky.
Missing someone while you're still with them is such a waste of time, I know, but that's what I've been doing today, instead of looking forward to getting back to the office tomorrow.
I'd cancel my job if I could spend the time with Angie instead. Mom would read me a lecture if she heard these thoughts. But I know it's true by the way my heart squeezes, counting down every minute, finding any excuse to touch Angie. The life I want is here with her. She is the main event, not me sitting in the office spending more hours staring at my computer screen and memorizing formulas. At least I arranged with Poppy to spend Angie's birthday weekend on the bus with them. I can survive three more weeks without her.
"And where is Mike's head at now?" Angie slides closer to me on the bench, so that our shoulders touch.
"It's right next to yours." I turn, and our noses are inches apart. This is the furthest away from her I'd like to be. Impossible, but doesn't make me want it any less.
"And yet you're miles away." The sun bathes her face in light that enhances the shine in her eyes. Angie's my favorite thing to look at. She's so full of life, and joy, and she glows. Her glow ignites my every cell with fire: bright and comforting. Her energy transforms the shadows that missing her created into the hope that even when I'm not near, we'll stay close. Closer than ever before. She squints and shields her eyes from the sun glare behind me. "Are you worried about the renovations again? Did you hear back about the design options we worked out?"
