The Patriot A Small Town Romance - Jennifer Millikin Page 0,122

PR.

Ten days. With Ethan Shepherd.

My best friend.

And also the person who has been on my mind while I’m asleep.

How many times am I going to relive the dream when I'm awake?

I’m trying to pay attention to what Lynn’s saying, I really am, but… His scratchy face on my skin… I’m a goner. Might as well give in and let myself enjoy the daydream.

“Kate, seriously?”

Sarah stares down at me, hands on her hips. I look around. The room is empty. My cheeks warm.

“I’m sorry, my mind is elsewhere today.”

“That's clear. Want to tell me where?”

I bite my lip. I've hardly dared to tell myself where my mind has been. There’s no way I’m telling anybody else.

I rise from my seat and lead the way out of the now empty conference room. Sarah is on my heels.

“We have some work to do. Let’s get to it.” I throw the directive behind me.

I’m Kate Masters, and I’m back in control.

***

It’s funny how, when I think I’m in control, something happens to remind me how wrong I am. Not haha funny, but funny like of course you have no control over Ethan’s flight home. If I’d checked my phone before I ran out of work, I would’ve known his plane is late. But I was busy, pushing it to the final second before jumping from my seat and thundering to the elevator. There had been so much to accomplish before I left.

At work Sarah kept reminding me of the time. And asking why I’d been a space cadet in the morning meeting.

I know something’s up. Does it have to do with Ethan?

No, why would anything be up with Ethan?

Because you’re taking a lot of time off work to spend with him, and you’ve been weird for weeks. And extra weird today.

I took time off to spend with him last summer when he was home.

But you weren’t absent minded and forgetful and—

Weird?

Yes.

Everything is cool. Promise. I just need to get through all this work before I can leave.

Now I’m sitting in front of terminal four security at the airport with forty-five minutes to spare.

Forty-five minutes to think.

About Ethan.

About how Ethan and I have been best friends since we were five. Two decades.

And about my dream. And what it means.

I’ve never dreamed of Ethan before. Not like that, anyway.

Ethan has always been… Well, Ethan.

But now he’s not.

Now he’s Ethan.

And that terrifies me. It shakes the foundation of my life. I’ve spent a lot of time building the solid, stable floor I stand on. Having feelings for Ethan is like taking a sledgehammer to one of the wooden planks. I need Ethan the way I need air and water to live. Ethan’s unyielding, loyal friendship is my safe haven. He’s the only person I don’t try to be perfect for. Everyone else… They expect it. Perfection. And I don’t do disappointment.

But these feelings… They’ve consumed me. Infiltrated my heart and swallowed me whole.

And they’re already affecting my behavior. Last night he called from the airport in Germany, and I turned into a thirteen-year-old with a crush, stammering and sweating. When he asked what was wrong, I assured him I was great, just preoccupied with work. He believed me. I think.

What if I told him everything?

I know what would happen.

I sigh and glance at the time on my phone. Twenty more minutes until he arrives. I look up, survey the weaving security line, watch the TSA employees with their stiff shoulders, and look again at the stream of people exiting the concourses, fresh from their flight’s arrival. My fingers tap my knees. I need a change of scenery. These gray walls are driving me crazy. Or maybe it’s me and all this overthinking.

I rise from the seat I’ve been planted in too long. The blood rushes into my left foot, and it tingles. I wobble, but make it to the restroom without an embarrassing scene.

Instead of walking toward a stall, I go to the mirror. Ethan has seen me thousands of times—at my absolute best and complete worst. Still, I fuss with my hair and check my makeup. Brown hair still brown, lower lip still bigger than upper lip, one ear still a millimeter higher than the other. Makeup in place. I look down at my red shirt, happy I remembered clothes to change into. I didn’t want to greet Ethan in my sensible blouse and gray slacks. It’s possible I chose this color for a reason…

After all our years together, physical appearance falls low on the yardstick