Relief washed over me. For the tiny moment that losing him was a possibility, my world had stopped for the second time in my life. Well-thought-out steps had been taken to keep myself from feeling that way, yet there I was, vulnerable.

“You did?” I asked.

“It was ridiculous.”

“Is that a condition?”

“No. It’s a non-promise.” He leaned up, kissed my bare shoulder, and then lay down, melting into the mattress.

I had never slept in the same bed with someone before, not even as a child with my parents. Somehow, lying next to Taylor was the most normal thing in the world, as if it had always been and always would be.

“Good night,” I whispered.

But he was already asleep.

“I got it,” Taylor said, pulling my carry-on off the conveyor belt.

We had overslept and were running a little late, trying to get through security before they began boarding our flight.

I hopped on one foot to slip on a sandal and then dropped my other shoe on the floor, sliding the strap between my first and second toe and then pulling the back over my heel. Shoes and clothes from the thrift store were always wonderfully worn in. It wasn’t the first time I appreciated not having to use the buckle on my three-seasons-old, half-size-too-big Steve Madden sandals.

Even though Taylor was in a rush to get to the gate, he watched me, a patient smile on his face.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.

I grabbed it. “Yes and no and yes. Stop asking me that. I’m trying to stay calm.”

“Haven’t you flown before?” he asked as we walked.

I shot him a look. “I’ve flown all over the world. My parents loved to travel.”

“Oh, yeah? Like where?”

“Not Eakins.”

He grimaced. “I’m trying to respect your privacy, but I’m getting more and more nervous about walking into this blind.”

“For someone so nervous, you sure fell asleep fast.”

He squeezed my hand. “You’re comfortable.”

“Sleeping with you wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be.”

He made a face. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that from a woman before.”

I looked up at the four large screens secured to the ceiling. The flights were listed by city, alphabetically, with the corresponding gate number.

I pointed to the first screen. “Gate six. They’re boarding now.”

“Shit! Let’s go!”

Taylor and I ran, heaving by the time we reached our gate. There was still a long line, but we were both so happy to have made it that we didn’t care.

“Damn,” Taylor said. “I’m glad this is a small airport. If we were in Denver, we would have been screwed.”

After making it down the jetway and all the way back to row twenty, Taylor shoved our carry-ons into the overhead bin and collapsed next to me.