I plodded behind the bar, looking for something to clean.

“Falyn?” Kirby called.

“Yeah?” As soon as I looked up, I swallowed back the rising panic.

Kirby was standing in front of her hostess podium with Taylor.

“Hey, Tay,” I said.

Taylor laughed once, a dozen emotions scrolling over his face, none of them amusement. “Hey, Ivy League.”

I noticed one strap over his shoulder. “What’s with the backpack?”

He set the pack on a stool toward the center of the bar.

“I brought you something.” After a short pause, he tugged on the zipper, pulled out a small white sack, and set it on the bar.

“A present?” I said, trying not to show my nervousness.

“Don’t open it until I leave.”

“Where are you going?”

“Not work.”

“Oh.”

“It’s raining, Falyn. We’re dragging up.”

I made a face. “I don’t speak hotshot. What does that mean?”

“There’s enough moisture on the ground that the local guys can handle the area. I’m leaving.”

“But … you said you were here until October.”

He shrugged, defeat on his face. “I can’t stop the rain.”

I stared at him, speechless. The passing rain clouds were becoming night clouds, darkening the sky.

“Don’t give me any shit about your present, okay? For once in your life, don’t be a huge pain in the ass.”

“Whatever you say,” I said, deflated.

“Whatever I say?” he said, blinking.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” I pulled the sack off the counter and put it behind the bar.

“Falyn—”

“It’s fine,” I said, inexplicably scrubbing the bar with a dry cloth.

He sighed. “We’re not doing the stupid misunderstanding thing. I’m coming back. We’re going to do what we said we’d do.”

“Mmkay.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, his shoulders falling.

I stopped scrubbing and painted on a smile. “If we do, great. If not, I’ll figure it out. I’m not your responsibility.”

He narrowed his eyes and zipped his backpack closed before slinging it over his shoulder. “You’re going to miss me.”

“Not at all.”

“Yeah, you are. You’re pissed because you’re going to miss me like hell.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head and continuing to not clean the counter with the cloth in quick circles. “That would be a total waste of time.”

“Stop being a hard-ass,” he quipped. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

My quick circles slowed.

“That’s why I’m coming back next weekend to get you. To take you home. My home. To Eakins.”

“What?” I looked up at him, my eyes instantly glossing over.

“I wanted to leave tomorrow, but Chuck said the funeral—”

“Next weekend?” Tears spilled over onto my cheeks in twin streams.

Taylor’s expression changed from smug to desperation. “We can go tomorrow. I just thought—”

“No,” I said, wiping my face. “No, next weekend is perfect. But”—I pointed at him—“don’t promise.”

He shook his head. “Fuck no, I’m not promising. I’ll promise not to if you want.”

I climbed over the counter and jumped on him, throwing my arms and legs around him. “Thank you!” I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Taylor chuckled, trying to cover his surprise. His hand settled on the back of my hair, and he pressed his cheek against mine. “I’ll see you in a week.”

I relaxed my grip on him, and he lowered me to the floor. Out of pure excitement, I slid my hands between his sides and his arms, and I clasped my fingers together, squeezing him. “You make it really hard not to get my hopes up.”

“If I disappointed you, I think Phaedra would murder me—right after Chuck slit my throat.”

I glanced over to Chuck, who was holding a knife to his own throat and pretending to slice it, not at all teasing.

Taylor leaned over after I released my hold on him, and he kissed my cheek before backing away. “There’s a phone in that sack. My number’s already in it. Text me your travel info, so I can book the tickets.”

I quickly looked back at the bar. “Are you …” My breath caught. “You’re killing me.”

“Don’t call me Tay. Ever again. Or the deal’s off.”

I shook my head. “I won’t even call you an asshole behind your back.”

Reluctantly, he continued toward the door, adjusting the backpack. “Send nudes!” he called back, flashing the peace sign before pushing his way out to the sidewalk.

I looked to Chuck and Phaedra. “I don’t even understand life right now. What is going on?”

I ran around the counter and scrambled for the sack before tearing the phone from beneath the layers of tissue paper. I was fairly certain the three bare asses on the wallpaper belonged to Taylor, Dalton, and Zeke even though all three men’s faces were obscured as they were slightly bent while they mooned the camera.

I choked back tears and covered my mouth.

“Who does that?” I asked to no one in particular. I looked to Phaedra, who had tears in her eyes, too. “I’m going. Next weekend, I’ll be in Eakins.”

“I’m happy for you, honey,” Phaedra said, holding out her arms as she walked toward me. Squeezing me tight, she patted my back. “But if he follows through on his promise, there won’t be enough of him left for Chuck to slice after I’m through with him.”

She let go of me, and the phone in my hand buzzed. The name on the screen read, TAYLORBEAST. I swiped the screen over and read the text.

Stop missing me. It’s embarrassing.

I shook my head and slid the phone into my apron. I would return it the moment we were back from Eakins, but his kindness was overwhelming.

For the rest of my shift, it was impossible not to be distracted by images of rolling into town and realizing my own atonement—from a respectable distance—without anyone being the wiser. I’d dreamed about it for so long, and knowing it was just a week away was almost unbearable.