Chapter 41

GETTY

From the scramble to make travel arrangements to throwing clothes in a suitcase to running between connecting flights, I feel as if I haven’t had a minute’s time to catch my breath.

And yet I wouldn’t have it any other way because I know the truth now. I know Zander was right. That I should have listened to him. That what we have is real and worth the chance.

Now I just can’t wait to get there and tell him face-to-face. Kiss his lips. Wrap my arms around him. I’m just hoping I can do it before the race starts, because I don’t think I can wait four or five hours. I’ve waited long enough as it is.

The cabbie honks his horn. My knee jogs up and down from my seat as I bite a desperate shout for the other cars to get out of the way. I have a man to make mine.

I extract my phone from my backpack to text Rylee that I’ve landed. And I silently thank Zander for programming her number in my phone. It feels like days ago, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget her response when she answered my call. After a rambling explanation about how I needed to get to Zander and see him and talk to him—and she could direct me how to get to the track once I landed, because it was dire that I see him—she told me, “You are his water.”

Too focused on the details of how soon I could get to Boston, I had no idea what she meant; now I’m trying to figure it out.

By the time the taxi gets me to the location Rylee had indicated, my body is riding high on adrenaline. I’m so close.

“Okay. I see the taxi,” Rylee says through the phone as I collect my bag and backpack and stand there amid a massive amount of people milling around in the prerace excitement as the cab pulls away.

“Getty!” Her voice is in my ear and behind me simultaneously.

As soon as I turn around, I’m engulfed in her arms. She pulls back and stunning violet eyes meet mine with a smile lighting up her face. We just stare at each other for a moment. It’s like I don’t have to say a word for her to understand how much I love her son. I can see it in her eyes. She already knows.

And the nerves I thought I’d feel disappear as she laughs out loud and pulls me against her again. “I’m so glad you’re here, Getty.” Her voice holds so much warmth, so much welcome, that I’m not sure how to respond, because I’m not used to it. “I’m Rylee. So nice to meet you.”

“Hi. Thank you for helping me get here.” Tears well in her eyes and she just shakes her head as if she’s really trying to believe I’m here.

“Anything for one of my boys.” She looks away from me and around at the crowd. “We’ll talk properly during the race, but right now I want to get you to Zander. Here. Put this on.” She loops a lanyard around my neck with all kinds of official-looking information on it that matches the one she’s wearing. “Let’s go!” She grabs my hand and begins to lead me through the crowd.

We move through security, around barricades, and weave in and out of the crowd of people that line the street. Their excitement is contagious. The exhilaration of being so close to Zander and the chance to right my wrongs is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. And strangely enough, the woman whose hand is holding mine is also providing me with a sense of acceptance that I never expected.

We can’t really talk, given the noise of the crowd and how fast we’re moving as we skirt through openings in the mass of people.

The crowd begins to thin some. The security becomes tighter, its presence more visible. We have to show our badges at a gate before we’re allowed through. Men in fire suits of different colors stand all around us now. Some say hi to Rylee as we pass by. Some just nod in greeting. The clatter of tools as they’re dropped on concrete can be heard here and there.

My nerves jitter with anticipation. With uncertainty. With hope. But we keep walking at our brisk pace. And while the crowd may have thinned, Rylee keeps my hand in hers. I have a feeling she can sense how freaked out I am.

And just like that, in the middle of a makeshift alley where concrete barriers divide the track from the pits, she stops abruptly. I look at her, startled, my heart pounding.

“Just remember, more hearts break from words left unspoken than from saying too much.” I nod my head as the tears well up at her absolute compassion. The kind she’s taught her son. Her eyes hold mine, encourage me, ground me. I take a deep breath and squeeze her hands in mine before she helps to take my bags from me. “Welcome to the family, Getty. Zander’s right over there.” She lifts her chin over my shoulder.

I turn around slowly, breath held, and heart close to bursting as I look through a sea of royal blue fire suits to find the one I want the most.

And there he is—I can barely see him. He’s surrounded by a pack of fans, all reaching out something for him to scribble his autograph on. His smile is electric. His laugh genuine as it floats over the chaos and hits my ears. He focuses his attention completely on the person he’s speaking to, giving a full moment to each one. And the sight of him so utterly in his element, undeniably in love with what he does, surrounded by those who support him, makes me fall in love with him all over again.

Now that he’s in my sights, I realize I should have thought this out better. That I should have planned a way to make this reunion special and memorable. But I didn’t. I was so focused on being in his arms, telling him yes, we deserve another chance, that it never crossed my mind. How was I to know that he’d be so swamped by people, I’d have to compete to get his attention?

I look toward the rev of an engine to the left of us and when I look back toward the crowd, Zander’s eyes meet mine. Time stands still as we take each other in. And there’s not a word I can use to describe how I feel as I watch the emotion play over his features when he realizes that I came here for him. If I had any doubts about my decision, his expression alone would have erased them completely.

All I see is love. All I want is him. All I feel is complete after being broken in pieces for so very long.

With the events of the past week, I often wondered if our love was worth fighting for. But in this moment, when I look at him, I know I’d wage a war and more to keep him.

The look on his face holds everything I imagined it would and then some: shock, relief, excitement, love. Urgency. I’m unable to do anything beyond stand there on the outside of the circle with tears in my eyes and a heart bursting with love.

He tries to move, attempts to head my way, and it looks like he’s wading upstream. As he moves a foot forward, the mob moves with him. His laugh rings out again. His eyes hold steadfast on mine at the irony of the situation: how he’s been trying to get to me for a week and now that I want to get to him, I can’t.

And the one thing that has always been a part of who we are is being able to laugh regardless of the situation. Right now is no exception.

He trudges toward me making steady progress. A sea of fans in his team color of royal blue soon swallows me up in the throng. I’m bumped and jostled and I lose sight of Zander through the activity of the crowd.

A hand finds my arm. And before I can turn, I’m being pulled against the tide until I come face-to-face with the one person I’m searching for.

Flashes on cameras ignite. Voices shout his name. The crowd continues to want something from him. But when my eyes meet Zander’s, all of it—the noise, the chaos, the hands that continue to touch him—fades to gray, because the only thing in living color is him.

The man I want. The man I’m fighting for. The man who tells me to just jump and I do because I trust him.

At least now I do. Lesson learned. Go with your gut. Listen to his words. Believe his actions.

“Getty.” My name is on his lips. The only thing I want to hear. That smile I love of his going into mega dimple territory.

“Hi, Golden Boy.”

His laugh vibrates from his chest into mine.

And then I forget everything once his lips are on mine.

Of all the kisses we’ve ever shared, this one by far is the sweetest. It’s an I don’t care who is watching—I’m going to take my sweet time with you type of kiss. His hands are possessive on my cheeks and our tongues dance together like we have all the time in the world.

And when we break apart moments later, he pulls back a few inches, the smile I can’t completely make out lighting up his eyes. “You’re here.” Awe. His voice warms me from inside out.

I nod my head. “You sent me socks. Thank you.” I lean in to kiss him. “And pineapples.” Another kiss. “And paints.” And again. “And a hammer.” I let this one last a little longer, the crowd slowly stepping back now that they know his attention is one hundred percent focused on the girl in his arms. This time I break the kiss and angle my head back so I can look him in the eyes. “Thank you for my gifts. But I don’t have anything to give you.”

It’s his turn to kiss me. A chuckle murmured against my lips. “There’s one thing I want from you, Socks.”

His eyes are crystal clear. His palms are pressed against my back. My heart in his hands. My nerves skitter out of control. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

I love the lightning-fast grin. The flash of desire in his eyes. The suggestion in his laughter as he throws his head back and laughs while cameras continue to click and people continue to watch us. All I can do is lift my eyebrows and smile.

His hands come back up to frame my face as his eyes darken with intensity. “You, Getty. I want you. All of you. With your quirks and flaws and smiles and laughs and pigheadedness and sexiness and temper and every other thing I can’t think of right now but know that I want.”

My heart swells. . . . His words echo within me in time with the beats and breathe life, possibility, into me. Into us.

“I just remembered that I do have one thing I can give you.” I move in closer, my lips up to his ear so he can hear me loud and clear. “I love you, Zander Donavan. Thank you for making me want to be found again.”

His breath hitches while his fingers tense on my skin. His smile widens as he leans back so I can see his eyes when he says it back to me. “I love you too, Socks.”

His lips meet mine as the crowd around us erupts in a roar of cheers and catcalls. But we sink into the kiss. Into the moment. Into each other.

And as real as the moment is, I love that the first time we confessed our love for each other was in the middle of a group of people. At the chaos of a track. In an unscripted moment. When he should be getting ready to race.

Because he just proved to me that no matter what the circumstances, he only has eyes for me.