Connor
Duffy:I just landed and I’m paying you back for this seat.
I texted:Why would you do that?
Duffy:Because flying with all that first-class legroom makes me feel like the world’s biggest mooch.
I wasn’t sure how to respond because I wished I could be honest. I had more money than anyone else I knew, so why not give her a little extra space in the air when she was being so generous with her time?
But it was tricky, paying for things. People I knew—friends, my sister, and now Duffy—felt guilty letting me pay.
And for me, it felt weird to insist because that felt like I was showing off that I had money.Let me pay because I am extremely wealthy and won’t even notice the missing funds.
It felt gross, even though it was the truth. It was worse because I was hyperaware of my age—I was barely out of college and had so much already. None of this felt normal to me still.
But if I were in her shoes, I knew I would feel the same way she did.
I texted:You’re doing me a favor by coming and meeting my grandpa, so it was the least I could do.
Duffy:We both know that’s a load of bull but I will allow it because I very much enjoyed drinking Diet Coke out of a glass and accepting hot towels, among other accessories. Should I uber to the nursing home?
My grandpa was always better and less irritable in the morning, or at least that’d been the case before the season started.
I hadn’t visited in a couple months, and I hated that.
Thank God my sister lived in town and saw him almost every day.
Ironically, she was out of town on business that day, so I was going to miss her completely.
I texted:I’m down by the baggage claim, waiting for you.
Duffy:Perfect.
Me:Perfect.
I wasn’t ready for the feeling I got in my chest when I saw her come down the escalator. I don’t know if it was the fact that she was willing to take the trip or just the fact that I was so into her, but when she smiled brightly at me after spotting me in the lobby, it messed with my head.
One look, and I realized it was fuckingseriousfor me.
We still hadn’t been on that second date yet, but at that moment I wanted everything with her. And as she walked toward me with a plate of cookies in her hands, I couldn’t help but think that I didn’t know anyone else quite like her.
And I didn’t mean it in an asinine not-like-other-girls way, like I was comparing her to other females who were “lesser than.”
No, with Duffy it was just a fact.
I’d never met anyone like her.
She was the funniest, smartest, most capable, least high-maintenance, and most down-to-earth person I’d ever met.
She was in a league of her own because she was the only one.
“Am I going to seem like a suck-up that I made your grandpa cookies?” she asked when she came to a stop in front of me.
“Hell, yes, and he’s going to love it,” I said, taking in her face and getting a little starstruck. She was so fucking beautiful I could look at her for hours without my attention wavering in the slightest. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the freckles on her nose, the wispy baby hairs she constantly blew from her face, the intriguing way that she nibbled on her gorgeous lower lip while thinking; I got tripped up in her details whenever I allowed myself to stare.
We went outside and got into the Uber I’d taken there, and I wondered if I needed to explain more about my grandpa on the way to the facility.
As if reading my mind, she said, “Don’t look so stressed—it’s going to be fine.”