It’s six am and I’ve finally made it to my gate with a few minutes to spare until boarding time. While the adrenaline from earlier is finally leaving my body, nerves and fear are becoming more of a permanent fixture. I clutch onto the hot styrofoam cup that holds my coffee and try to steady my breathing. Everything's a mess.

At two am I got a phone call that nobody ever wants to receive. My sister Lucy went to my mother’s house and found her on the floor unresponsive. She’d had a stroke and now with the delay between the incident and someone finding her, there’s no concrete answer to how bad the damage is. Swelling on the brain means the doctors have put her in an induced coma, hoping to wake her up once it goes down. But what if it doesn’t?

I’ve spent the last four hours finding flights and trying to condense everything I could possibly need for an indefinite stay, into two suitcases. When Lucy called me, she was hysterical. And when your usually cool, calm and collected older sister breaks down, you know it’s bad.

I haven’t been home in years. My mom, my sister and my nephew are the loves of my life, but I loved letting go of the chains of small town living a little bit more. When I was eighteen I left home for college and got myself a degree in Business, minoring in Social Media Marketing. Working for Facebook was my dream, and when an internship popped up in California allowing me to do just that, I jumped at the opportunity. Four years later and I’m now a Social Media Marketing Assistant and I’ve never been happier.

I feel my phone vibrate in my bag and I pull it out to see who it is.

Lucy: Wes will pick you up from the airport.

With a lump forming in the pit of my stomach, I quickly type out my response to Lucy, praying Wes is a new guy she’s seeing and not who I think it is.

Me: Who’s Wes?

Lucy: What do you mean who’s Wes? Wesley from school. Wesley my neighbor. Wesley my friend.

Me: Why does he need to pick me up? I can just call an Uber

Lucy: An Uber? It’s not California Avery, Just let him pick you up. He’s been here watching Jeremiah all night while I’ve been at the hospital. He’s been amazing and offered to help. I’ve got Jeremiah’s school play this morning and I can’t miss it. Please don’t make it difficult.

“Fucking Hell,” I mutter under my breath

Me: You’re lucky I love you. See you soon.

I see all the other people around me gathering their hand luggage and moving toward the ticketing desk. Annoyed, I throw my cell in my bag and pick up the laptop bag I’m taking on the plane. As I near the line, I toss the coffee in the bin, and begin anticipating the awkward reunion between me and Wesley fucking Steele.

The sound of the wheels being lowered before landing startles me, waking me up suddenly. I don’t even remember falling asleep. My eyes do a quick scan of my surroundings, it seems I’m not the only one who was in need of a nap. Lying my head back on the seat, I take a deep breath before the plane finally lands. Out of all the reasons I conjured up in my mind to ever return home, this wasn’t one of them. My mom is the strongest woman I know, coming in a close second is Lucy. I’m the baby of the family, the cool aunt; but I’m also the selfish one. I know it’s weird to admit, but we all have our roles and in this moment of panic and crisis I’m beginning to realize I’m not capable of handling change. I like plans, lists, and organization. Unexpectedly moving, being back here, and being responsible for people other than myself - I don’t think I’m built for that.

Waiting at the carousel for my luggage to appear, the thought of having to see Wesley Steele has tension creeping up into my shoulders. I haven’t laid eyes on him since high school ended and even this many years later is too soon. He was an arrogant dick, walking the school halls like he was king shit; expecting everyone to fall at his feet. And from the snippets of information I’ve heard over the years, nothing much has changed. I spot my suitcases and walk a little closer, preparing myself to drag them onto the ground. They each weigh a ton. It’s a miracle I wasn’t charged any extra, due to how heavy they are. As I lean over to grab the handle, a large hand beats me to it. Startled, it takes me a few seconds to stop staring at the hand and turn to see who is reaching for my stuff. Holy shit he’s gorgeous.

Stunned into silence, I put my hands on top of his, and mutter an incoherent “Thank you”

“No problem.” He says. “They look like they’re about to burst.”

Finally managing to close my fly trap, I find the words to show my appreciation. “And who said chivalry is dead?”

He chuckles. “My mom would kill me if she found out I watched you struggle pulling those bags.”

“Well, tell your Mama I said thanks,” I say, sliding the handles up and preparing to wheel them with me toward the exit. We walk alongside one another and I’m unsure as to whether or not we’re supposed to continue the conversation.

“What brings you to West Virginia?” He asks.

“I’m from Piney View and I’m getting picked up to go home for a family emergency,” I ramble. He’s probably being polite and doesn’t actually care about my life details. We exit through the automated doors and step out into the mild late spring weather. But that’s not what catches my attention, it’s the big fuck off sign that says “Welcome home, Anal Avery.”

“Is that you?” The stranger asks, reminding me there are others around to witness my humiliation.

An audible sigh leaves my mouth. “Yep, that’s me.”

“Well, I better go.”

I don’t even bother responding as he rushes off, desperate to get away from this type of crazy. It seems Wesley Steele still knows how to clear a room.

With my teeth clenched, I speed walk toward him and the sign. My face must give away how angry I am, because his smile falters and he slowly lowers the sign. We stand toe to toe and the fury is radiating off my body.

“Can we get the hell out of here?”