Page 143 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

I pass her door silently and stop in front of Oliver’s.

This is a terrible idea. I’m going to get rejected. He might not even hear my knock because he’s a deep sleeper and rarely wakes to a noise. And isn’t this the exact scenario I envisioned the other night?

And now I’m making it happen.

I am a glutton for punishment.

I knock sharply once, then wait a second and knock again.

It’s an old signal that we had for each other—I don’t even remember why we invented it. Something about when we were kids and you’d call a friend twice to get past parent screening? Or did I read that in a book once? I—

The door opens. Oliver’s standing there in boxers and a T-shirt, his hair rumpled, his eyes tired, but he wasn’t asleep. I know because when he wakes up, his eyes are half closed for at least ten min—

“El?”

“Yeah.”

“Everything okay?”

“No,” I say, then stop myself from saying anything more.

There have been too many words today.

Instead, I launch myself at Oliver like I’m Kate in the church after Anthony and Edwina’s failed wedding,186 and it happens just like that as my lips crash into Oliver’s. There’s a minute of hesitation on his part where I think he’s going to push me away, and then his arms are around me pulling me closer, closer, closer, and he tugs me into his room and the door snaps shuts behind us, and any memories of Connor are erased in an instant because that’s what Oliver does to me.

When we’re together, there’s nothing but us.

And it’s scary. It’s terrifying.

But I’m not going to let go this time.

I’m going to hold on with everything I’ve got.187

Hours later (ahem), we’re tangled up together in Oliver’s bed. My head is on his chest and I can feel his heart beating in time with mine. He’s stroking my hair slowly, and we still haven’t said anything.188

It’s perfect, this moment, but everything perfect comes to an end.

I should know.

Sometimes it’s easier to be the one to end it.

“Hi,” I say, looking up at him.

“Hi,” he says back, then kisses me. “That was… unexpected.”

“Unexpectedly good?”

“What do you think?”

I smile at him, then expel a long breath. “I’m getting arrested in a couple of hours.”

“No, you’re not,” Oliver says, sitting up a little. “I made a call after I got back to my room.”

“A call?”

“To our publisher.”

“Oh God.”