When I finally came up for air, I leaned down so that I could press my forehead against hers. “Was that romantic or messy?” I asked, which caused her to laugh again.

“Both?” She said it like a question.

My grin stretched as I pressed a kiss to her forehead. She was real in my hands, rooting me in this moment. I never wanted to let her go.

She was so different from me, yet I’d never felt more seen by anyone. She had all these aspirations and I would always be adrift. Nothing about us was meant to be, but I couldn’t help but feel like fate was telling me we were meant for now.

SEVENTEEN

Frankie

“So this is the place?” I asked, stepping into the tiny studio apartment.

While I’d hoped the night might lead here, I hadn’t wanted to assume anything. Even though going home with a guy was something I hardly did, Oliver had a way of completely calming me down. My nerves from earlier had evaporated by this point. He’d shared more with me on this date than he ever had before. I felt like I was in—like I was in some special secret Oliver society with an ultra-exclusive membership.

“This is it.” He held up his hands and spun around the small space. “Want the tour? It’s a short one.”

I stumbled out of my boots, my entire body buzzing with anticipation.

“This is the kitchen,” he said, pointing. “And this is the living room. This is my bed. And that’s basically it.”

I forced my eyes not to linger on his bed as I stepped into his space, taking it in. To my extreme relief, the place was tidy. The bed was made and there was no trash lying around. When I caught sight of a duffel bag spilling over with clothes on the bench at the end of his bed, I froze.

“Packing?” I asked, pointing to it. The last day of the season was this Saturday. I knew we hadn’t exactly talked about it, but I thought for sure he’d tell me when he was leaving.

“Oh, ah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “That’s my bag from when I got here. I never bothered unpacking.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You’ve been here for over three weeks.”

He shrugged, giving me a sheepish grin. “I never unpack on trips.”

“But…but you’ve done laundry, right?”

Oliver’s head fell back as he laughed at my concerned expression. “Yes, Frankie. I’ve done laundry. I just toss it back on the bench when it’s clean.”

My mouth parted in shock as I walked over to the set of drawers standing next to the bed and opened one. “This is a perfectly good dresser, and it’s right here. Arguably closer to the washer and dryer.” I pointed to where the appliances were housed next to the bathroom. “Why can’t you dump your stuff here?”

Oliver rolled his eyes, clearly amused by how appalled I was. In one fell swoop, he went to the bench, scooped his clothes up, walked over to the dresser, and dropped his stuff into the awaiting drawer. “Happy?” he asked.