Page 115 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son

“Dmitri, look behind you,” Oskar says on the phone, his words still coming out slightly breathless.

I blink.

He wouldn’t...

No...

Hope that I might see him again wars with the reality that I’ve probably misinterpreted what he said or something.

I jerk my head behind me, and there he is.

My Oskar. At the fucking airport.

He’s wearing the same clothes he wore when I said goodbye, though his hair is tousled, and his cheeks pink.

Relief bubbles through me, and I stretch out my arms. Oskar quickens his pace and jumps into my arms. His legs encircle my waist, and I see other passengers gazing in our direction, some puzzled, some with soft expressions, and some frowning.

Never mind them.

I turn my focus to the most amazing man in the world.

“Oh, God. You came to say goodbye in person.”

I kiss his lips, and maybe I will be bawling when the flight attendant tells me it’s time to board but it’s worth it. Feeling his warm body against my chest will always be worth it.

I kiss his lips, melding into his warm mouth. I am home, at least now.

Oskar pulls away. “So, um...”

He slides down my legs, and if I didn’t know better maybe I would think he was embarrassed.

Maybe the public display of affection was too much?

I frown. “How did you pass through security? Don’t you need to show a boarding pass?”

His cheeks flame. “I got one.”

“For the international terminal?” I smooth his hair. “International tickets aren’t cheap. I appreciate it.”

“So you’re happy to see me?”

“Of course I am.” I frown. He’s acting weird, but this whole situation is weird.

Maybe my head was in the sand, but I believed that we would be able to find a solution that didn’t involve me being deported.

“I love you, baby,” I say.

His eyes glisten. “I love you too.”

He steps away, and for some reason, he still seems nervous. “I really love you, Dmitri. And I still want us to be married. I still want us to be together.”

“I can’t be here, baby,” my voice cracks.

His fingers flutter, then he squares his shoulders. “But I can go with you.”

Joy explodes in my heart, and I take his hands in mine. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

I crush my forehead to his, and I tighten my grip around his hands. I inhale. I don’t want to say what I’m about to say.