Chasing Crazy - Kelly Siskind Page 0,97

this right, to heal her mother and bring this girl back to me. “Will you wait for me, Nina? For a year?”

She nods. “Yes. Forever. Yes, yes. But…” She pauses, and I can’t catch my breath.

But? Nothing good ever follows but.

I’d rather eat glass than hear her say but.

A lifetime passes before she speaks. “But I don’t think we can see each other during that time. No visits. No weekends. This, right now, what I’m feeling—I can’t do this again and again. It hurts too much. I’ll have my mom and her stuff to deal with. I’m not sure I can take it if my heart breaks with each good-bye.”

One whole year without a touch or a kiss. One whole year without her naked body under mine. My emotions settle in my chest again. The tightening, the deep ache. As much as the idea pains me, I know what she’s getting at. If I have to feel this every time we separate, it could drag me down until I’m not much better off than my father. I need to be there for him, Nina needs to be there for her mother. If we want to make it out the other side, we need to do this. “Okay. No visits. But I’m not caving on the Skyping. And there will be sexting. Lots of sexting.”

Her chin trembles, and her lips find mine. “Yes, yes,” she says against my mouth. “Lots.”

Then we’re pressing so tight I’m worried she’ll break. Or maybe I will.

* * *

Nina’s flight leaves in six hours, mine in eight. As much as I want to lie in bed all day, imprinting myself on her, there’s something I need to make right before we leave our room. While Nina finishes packing, I slip into the bathroom, gather the bag I hid under the sink, then step out and watch her profile. The curve of her cheek. The pout of her lips. Of all New Zealand’s mind-blowing scenery—mountains, fjords, beaches, glaciers—this is the view I’ll miss most.

One fucking year.

“Hey,” I say, and she turns, expectant. Still in my boxers and T-shirt, I cross the room and sit legs folded on the bed, placing the plastic bag beside me. “Come sit for a sec.”

She studies the bag, then takes a seat facing me, tucking her skirt under her crossed legs. Suddenly, her eyes well up. “What is it, Sam? What’s wrong?”

The last thing I want is to be the one making her cry. I shrug. “It’s about my name. I’ve decided to take Leigh’s advice and change it to Samantha.” Considering I’ve spent part of the last thirty-six hours bawling like a chick, it would be fitting.

She tips her head back and laughs, soothing and sweet.

One. Fucking. Year.

“Come on,” she says, “What’s up?”

Her hands are on my bare ankles, our knees touching. Reaching forward, I run my fingers over the necklace I gave her—the Maori Koru design that represents peace, tranquility, personal growth, and positive change. I pull an identical necklace from my bag. “I thought I’d get the same one. I want to be reminded of you every day for the next year.”

Again, her eyes well.

Again, my chest constricts.

Quickly, I add, “It was either this or tattooing a pinup of you on my arm.”

She rolls her eyes and, thankfully, smiles. “My mom has a tattoo. A grouping of mushrooms on her hip—of the magic variety. For my sixteenth birthday, she asked if I wanted to get one of my favorite teddy bear.” Her skin blanches. “Not that I have a teddy bear. Or dolls. Or anything like that. My room’s very grown-up. Very adult. Sexy, even. And there are no Harry Potter posters or paraphernalia anywhere. At all.” She drops her head. “Oh, God.”

I laugh. Damn, do I love this girl. “I need pictures, Canada. A full panoramic view of this very sexy, adult room of yours with the stuffed animals, posters, and figurines you don’t have. I expect it sent immediately when you get home.”

But there it is again. Home. Apart. Away.

She ties my necklace in place, her hands feathering over my skin.

Time for part two.

Without a word, I extricate a small bottle of vodka and two shot glasses from my bag and hold the glasses out to her.

She wrinkles her brow. “What are you up to?”

I wink, not giving anything away. Frowning, she takes the glasses, holding tight while I fill them up. Once the bottle’s down, I take mine. “I thought we’d play a quick round of

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