Page 66 of Reaching Gavin

Chapter Twenty-Four

The next dayGavin didn’t come to work. I gave him space. I’d accused him of a lot of things and then I’ve refused to answer his phone calls. If he was going to play hooky, then I could respect that. When he didn’t come to work on Thursday, I began to worry. By Friday, I was a disaster.

Since I hadn’t wanted to be the subject of office gossip, I tried to act like nothing was wrong. I kept up my running jokes with George and got us coffee each day. I chatted with people and endured the good-natured ribbing about my new relationship. I continued my work on the Majestic Theater project.

Now, however, after our big fight, I had to wonder if I wouldn’t be seeing this through. I had been the one to say I wouldn’t come back for a job here. I had promised Imogen to leave everything in good hands, though, and I would do that. There was plenty of work to keep me busy, but nothing could keep me from being distracted.

Through it all, I checked my phone religiously. I’d sent Gavin one text. A peace offering of sorts. A digital olive branch that simply read ‘ready to talk’ and nothing else. I left the punctuation off the end on purpose. I figured if he wanted to see it as a command and come running, that was fine. If he needed to see it as a question, then I would give him space to respond when he was ready to talk. The trouble was, that he was taking too long to decide. I was going crazy.

Jess had returned to Olympic Falls and her husband, which gave me a whole lot of time to overanalyze the situation. Because I didn’t want to add to Jillian’s already full emotional plate, we hadn’t been discussing it over text. Jess seemed to feel that’d she helped me as much as she possibly could, even though, she continually offered to listen. I knew this was something I had to do alone. If I continue to analyze it, I’d wind myself so tightly that I might never get myself untangled from this situation.

Instead, I went through the motions. I went to work, I ate, I showered, I slept. Well, I actually didn’t sleep. That was pretty impossible, since the bed was the place I missed having Gavin the most. We’d only spent a couple nights together and somehow my body already saw him as home. Without him next to me, I didn’t feel as safe. I didn’t feel as comfortable. I wanted his warmth. I wanted his arms. I wanted him.

I left work on Friday and headed home, wondering what to do. I was going nuts. So, I did the only thing I could think of, I called his sister.

“Hello?” she answered cautiously, and I realized I probably didn’t show up on her caller ID. Thank God, she’d answered. I wouldn’t have had the nerve to leave a voicemail.

“Hey Imogen, it’s Cassie.”

“Cassie!” She sounded genuinely overjoyed to hear from me. Maybe she was home babysitting her sad sack of a brother. Or was that too much to hope for? That he had been as miserable without me this week as I had been without him? “I was hoping you’d call.”

“Yes, but it’s for a pathetic reason,” I warned her.

“You’re looking for Gavin,” she guessed.

“He hasn’t been into work all week. I was pretty mad at him.”

“That I know,” she said. “It’s been like a morgue here. I had to force him to eat and shower.”

“Really?” Okay, so I sounded a little too excited about that. It was just good to know that he hadn’t run off to marry a Las Vegas showgirl or something.

“I think he’s on his way to Friday Harbor,” she told me. “He said he just needed to get away and think and he took a bag. I could check to see if he filed a flight plan.”

“When did he leave?” I forced myself to ask.

“About ten minutes ago.”

There wouldn’t be time to wait for her to call. He’d be on his way to the airfield. My stomach sank, but I realized that I still stood a chance if I left right now. “Do you think I could catch him?”

“Traffic’s murder down here. If you run, you might make the plane.”

I hung up with a quick goodbye and a promise to go out for drinks soon. Gavin was leaving—flying. My stomach did a nose dive, but I ignored it. I didn’t have time to let my nerves get the best of me. If he was going to Friday Harbor, I would go with him. I’d go wherever he went, so long as we could finally talk.

Gavin was a little bit closer to the airfield than I was, since I was coming from the east. I was still in my work clothes and heels, and I had maybe a quarter of a tank of gas left. Friday night traffic would slow him down. Plus, there was the fact that Gavin was a cautious driver. I drove like a bat out of hell. The odds weren’t in my favor, but it wasn’t a lost cause.

Traffic was as terrible as I expected. My filter wasn’t working, so I was well aware of the terrible things I was yelling at other drivers as I tried to manipulate my way through the gridlock. It was a little less than 8 miles from the condo to the private airfield. In Seattle driving conditions, it would take me approximately the rest of my life to get there.

I laid on the horn, flipped on my turn signal, and darted over into another lane that was moving faster. Gavin only had to go from his apartment downtown to the airfield, which according to my GPS was less than 2 miles. Still, Imogen had said the traffic was terrible in her part of town. It was the only hope I had and I clung to it like a life raft.

Given the later hour, the airfield was mostly deserted, except for some flight crews, who glared at me as I flew past them in my Toyota and drove toward the hangers.

I spotted Sound One waiting for her turn to taxi down the runway.

Jumping out, I didn’t bother to turn off the car, only then realizing I hadn’t changed out of my heels. I kicked them off and started to run. I made it to the plane as the propeller started to rotate. Yanking open the passenger door, I hauled my ass inside. Gavin’s hands rested on the controls and he whipped around in surprise. I couldn’t hear him, even though his lips were moving. A few seconds later, the engines began to die, and I realized he wasn’t going to take off. That was a relief. If I’d had to make the flight in my bare feet with no barf bag, I would have. But it wouldn’t have been my first choice.

Gavin unbuckled and jumped out of the plane, tossing his headphones onto the seat. I opened the door and realized how hard it was going to be to get out with no shoes on, when he appeared on my side of the plane.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.