Laney
“KAM?”
“Where are you?” he asks immediately.
I look around the airport and pause. Does he know I’m here? “I’m . . . in Seattle.”
“You’re where?” He sounds flabbergasted. Maybe he doesn’t know I’m here.
“Seattle,” I say again. “I was going to surprise you. I gave up the internship. I want to try, Kam,” I divulge nervously. I had planned to do this in person, but since he has me on the phone, I might as well spill all my secrets while I have the nerve. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Laney.” He breathes, and it sounds pained. I instantly regret every decision I’ve made over the last few weeks. I walk over to the nearest restaurant to get out of the way of the bustling travelers. When I look up at the television, I see Kam’s name flash across the screen.
In an unforeseen turn of events, Kamdyen Ellis, Alabama all-star and first-round draft pick has been traded to New York. In a statement released earlier today by the team, the organization could not be happier to have picked up Ellis and are ecstatic to start the phenom in the upcoming season.
If someone brushed by me at this very moment, I would surely fall over.
“Kam?” My voice is shaky. “Where are you?” I am ninety-nine percent sure of the answer, but I just have to hear him say it.
“New York.”
I almost sob.
“I wasn’t letting you go again, Laney. Not without a fight, this time.”
“Oh, my God.” I turn straight around and head back to the gate I just deplaned from. “I’m coming back.” I push against the crowd moving in the opposite direction as me. It feels like I’m wading through the ocean, but I don’t care.
“I’ll be at the airport waiting for you.”
I wipe away the tears and giggle. “You better.”
I hang up once I reach the ticket counter. “I need to go back to New York. Right now. The next flight,” I tell the attendant behind the counter. Her eyes widen.
“Is everything alright, ma’am?”
“Yes,” I answer excitedly. “I just need to get home, right away.”
“I wasn’t letting you go again, Laney. Not without a fight, this time.”
She types some info into the computer. “Looks like the next flight with open seats leaves for JFK in an hour.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Do you want to know the price of the ticket?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I whip out my credit card. “Book it, please.”
Within a few minutes, I am booked on the flight and hurrying to the gate that is on the other side of the terminal. I make it just in time.
I buckle my seat belt between a very large man with a fedora and an overweight woman munching on french fries. If I was in any other state of mind, this flight would suck, but nothing could ruin my amazing mood. It feels like a boulder has lifted off my chest. I have ached for Kam every second we have been apart. Watching him walk away affected me in ways I couldn’t explain or even comprehend. I just knew I needed to try and make things work. I needed to know if we could really have it all. So, I gave up my apartment in New York, resigned from my internship at the architecture firm, packed my bags, and headed for Seattle not knowing what the future would hold. I was hoping Kam would at least talk to me, see that I made the big gesture, and forgive me for being such an idiot. Forgive me for not trusting in us—or in him—enough to take a leap of faith. I have always been levelheaded. It’s my curse. Sometimes it costs me things, like missed opportunities or the courage to take chances; it almost cost me the man I love.
But not this time. This time we are going to do things right. Kam has a bright future and major responsibilities ahead of him, and my father was right, it’s time that I’m his rock.
I already know he’s mine.
I am nearly jumping out of my seat by the time the plane taxis and pulls up to the gate. I am squished all the way in the back between two people triple my size, but it doesn’t stop me. As soon as we are given the green light to deplane, I jump up and start to push past the other passengers pulling down their luggage from the overhead. Some none too happy with me, but shit, that’s life. Welcome to New York. The five-and-a-half-hour flight was torture. It felt twice as long since all I could think about was Kam. Once I finally make it through the jetway and into the airport, I literally run. Luckily, my only carry-on was a duffel bag, so it was easy to stow under the seat and sling over my shoulder. I pass the last, final exit sign and make it down the escalator to passenger pickup. It takes me all of three seconds to spot Kam. He’s standing in the middle of JFK wearing loose jeans, his favorite Roll Tide T-shirt, and a backward hat. He’s circled by a small crowd of fans, asking for autographs. Years ago, this would have upset me—today, I’m elated because I see how happy it makes him. He’s a born star, reveling in the role. There is no denying it and no taking it away from him.
“Kam!” I yell just as I step off the escalator. He looks up at the sound of his name. My feet carry me faster than I anticipate and the crowd parts as we move toward each other. I don’t even try to be modest. I drop my bag, jump into his arms, and plant a kiss right on his lips that mothers have to shield their children’s eyes from. I hear the camera phones snapping away, and know this kiss is going to go viral in nanoseconds, but I couldn’t care less. Right now, the only thing that’s important is Kam and me. Not his status, or his fans, or the media, or even the team.
What’s most important is just Kam and me. . . .