Sequel: Breathless ›
There Are Still Rules To Break
Leaving Boston
Amanda looked at Olivia with wide eyes, after rereading Patrice’s text, she didn’t know how many times. She stared at her best friend with a look that simply read ‘what do I do?’ She had not been expecting Patrice’s first text or communication to her to ask her to come to Quebec, and she was simply so confused. And part of her had to wonder why he wanted her to come up. Voicing her thoughts to Olivia, the girl responded with, ‘call him!’ Nodding her head slightly, Amanda ignored the sudden swarm of butterflies in her stomach, knowing that was the only way she was going to get answers. She needed to call him.
Olivia gave her friend a tight hug and a final parting message of ‘good luck’ before leaving Patrice’s place and leaving Amanda alone with her thoughts. There was simply no way he was missing her as much as she was missing him after only three days, was there? Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, Amanda picked up her cell phone and scrolled to Patrice’s name in her address book. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the little green phone on her keypad and brought the phone to her ear.
She only heard one ring before Patrice’s cool accent greeted her on the other end, “Amanda.”
“Hey,” She said back, feeling the nerves slip out of her as she leaned back against the back of the couch. “I wanted to call and talk about your text…”
“I know I should have called to ask you that, but I was too nervous.”
“Nervous?” She asked. What the hell did Patrice have to be nervous about. It’s not like she was going to turn him down and laugh at him for asking.
“I guess I was you’d think it was moving too fast, or something.”
She could sense the nervousness still in his voice, but she realized that he was asking her to take a big step. He wanted her to come to his hometown. Would that mean she’d be meeting his family and friends? Suddenly the nerves she had been feeling came back and intensified.
“I miss you,” She told him. “It’s probably stupid how much I do, Patrice.”
“Amanda, you can’t possibly miss me as much as I miss you. Come to Quebec. Spend the summer with me.”
“Okay,” was all she could say. Her mind was too far in a daze to focus on anything else but the fact she would be going to Quebec to spend the summer with, she guessed, her boyfriend Patrice Bergeron.
- - -
Amanda looked at the three full suitcases sitting on her bed. She couldn’t decide if she was over packing or not packing enough. How long was she going to be in Quebec? She knew she’d have access to a washer and dryer, so bringing tons of clothes was not necessary; she could re-wear outfits, no big deal.
Except, in one of her more girly moments, Amanda decided she didn’t want to re-wear outfits, especially when she would be spending nearly every day with Patrice, and he would for sure notice, just like he noticed everything else about her that not everyone else did. So by the time she was done packing, she had her whole closet, not to mention her toiletries and other items she’d be bringing, stuffed into four (and a half) large suitcases and one carry on.
She had everything taken care of. Olivia would stop by Amanda and Patrice’s place once a week to bring their mail in. It had actually been surprisingly easy to convince Patrice to let Olivia take care of his things, too. All Amanda had to say was that she trusted Olivia, and he said he trusted her too.
She had taken off of work; her boss had no way of saying no. In the two years she’d worked for the online magazine, she had never once called in sick (when she did work in the office) or taken a vacation. She was always there and so reliable, he just couldn’t tell her no. She had even offered up an article to write while she was gone; something along the lines of the adventures of a Bostonian in Quebec . He, of course, had been curious where the sudden trip to Quebec had come from, and Amanda was honest with her answer. Her boyfriend was from there, and she was spending the summer with him.
Her cell rang, as she sat on her couch, watching some TV. It was the taxi she had called to take her to the airport telling her it was downstairs. She sighed big and lugged all of her bags out of her apartment door, making sure it locked behind her. When she got to the lobby, the security guard helped her get all of her things off the elevator and out the door, where the taxi driver took over and put them into his trunck. She smiled sheepishly at them, thanking them, before climbing into the backseat. She rested her head against the seat as the driver pulled the taxi into traffic, making his way toward Logan International Airport .
- - -
Part of him still couldn’t believe she had agreed to spend the summer with him and been so excited about it. There was no denying they were moving fast, but when it felt so right how could they slow it down? He knew she was uprooting her life for him, and for that he loved her.
He stopped from his pacing back and forth in the waiting area of Jean Lasage International Airport , and he pulled his face together in confusion. Had he really just thrown the word ‘love’ out when thinking about how he felt about Amanda and done it so nonchalantly? He had two options he could think of. One of the options was to was to analyze the crap out of what he had just thought, which meant he would probably just confuse himself further. The second option was to not necessarily ignore it, but to just not actively think about it. He had thought it. It was done. He needed to let his feelings for Amanda come as they did. He couldn’t be scared. She was simply too amazing (whether she realized it or not), and his thoughts about her were too deep to go fucking everything up. Be cool, he told himself.
When he heard from the overhead announcement that her flight had landed, he officially decided on option two. He was too giddy and excited to see the beautiful brunette he had fallen so quickly for to even think about anything else. He sat down on a chair, knowing she had to go through a quick security check before she would be coming to where he was, where he said they would meet. He let out a deep breath and tried to calm himself down as he ran his hands up and down his jeans, trying to get the sweat off his palms.
He didn’t know how long had passed before he saw people coming from arriving security, but he jumped up when he saw them. Getting the attention of a middle aged couple, he asked where they were arriving from, and when they answered Boston he grinned widely and thanked them. As they walked away, he heard the woman whisper (not very quietly), “He’s waiting for a woman. I can tell.” And he was, indeed, waiting for his woman.
He finally saw her coming through security, pushing a luggage cart in front of her. He grinned even wider, if that was possible, taking in her appearance. She was more beautiful than he remembered her being when he had left Boston only two weeks before. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, a few lose strands framing her face, where her glasses sat and no makeup covered. It was just how he liked her. She wore a tight fitting pair of jeans, ballet flats, and a tight, low cut tee shirt. Something primal ignited within him as his eyes dragged up and down her body, something he had desperately missed looking at, not to mention having his hands on.
She finally saw him, her eyes lighting up and a smile spreading across her face. She walked faster, pushing the cart with her, as she headed his way. His feet finally moved him toward her, and they reached each other in seconds. He didn’t stop until his body was right up against hers, his left hand tightly gripping her hip while he placed his right hand on her neck. He crashed his lips onto hers before she could say anything. He usual heat he felt when he kissed her again rose in his body as they touched.
When he finally pulled away from her, she smiled up at him and locking her dark hazel eyes with his brown ones, having nothing else to say but a small “I missed you,” as her hands gripped tightly at his thin white tee shirt. He shook his head, pressing his lips to hers again, this time lightly, running his hands up and down her back. “I told you once, and I’ll say it again… There is no way you missed me as much as I missed you.”
Olivia gave her friend a tight hug and a final parting message of ‘good luck’ before leaving Patrice’s place and leaving Amanda alone with her thoughts. There was simply no way he was missing her as much as she was missing him after only three days, was there? Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, Amanda picked up her cell phone and scrolled to Patrice’s name in her address book. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the little green phone on her keypad and brought the phone to her ear.
She only heard one ring before Patrice’s cool accent greeted her on the other end, “Amanda.”
“Hey,” She said back, feeling the nerves slip out of her as she leaned back against the back of the couch. “I wanted to call and talk about your text…”
“I know I should have called to ask you that, but I was too nervous.”
“Nervous?” She asked. What the hell did Patrice have to be nervous about. It’s not like she was going to turn him down and laugh at him for asking.
“I guess I was you’d think it was moving too fast, or something.”
She could sense the nervousness still in his voice, but she realized that he was asking her to take a big step. He wanted her to come to his hometown. Would that mean she’d be meeting his family and friends? Suddenly the nerves she had been feeling came back and intensified.
“I miss you,” She told him. “It’s probably stupid how much I do, Patrice.”
“Amanda, you can’t possibly miss me as much as I miss you. Come to Quebec. Spend the summer with me.”
“Okay,” was all she could say. Her mind was too far in a daze to focus on anything else but the fact she would be going to Quebec to spend the summer with, she guessed, her boyfriend Patrice Bergeron.
- - -
Amanda looked at the three full suitcases sitting on her bed. She couldn’t decide if she was over packing or not packing enough. How long was she going to be in Quebec? She knew she’d have access to a washer and dryer, so bringing tons of clothes was not necessary; she could re-wear outfits, no big deal.
Except, in one of her more girly moments, Amanda decided she didn’t want to re-wear outfits, especially when she would be spending nearly every day with Patrice, and he would for sure notice, just like he noticed everything else about her that not everyone else did. So by the time she was done packing, she had her whole closet, not to mention her toiletries and other items she’d be bringing, stuffed into four (and a half) large suitcases and one carry on.
She had everything taken care of. Olivia would stop by Amanda and Patrice’s place once a week to bring their mail in. It had actually been surprisingly easy to convince Patrice to let Olivia take care of his things, too. All Amanda had to say was that she trusted Olivia, and he said he trusted her too.
She had taken off of work; her boss had no way of saying no. In the two years she’d worked for the online magazine, she had never once called in sick (when she did work in the office) or taken a vacation. She was always there and so reliable, he just couldn’t tell her no. She had even offered up an article to write while she was gone; something along the lines of the adventures of a Bostonian in Quebec . He, of course, had been curious where the sudden trip to Quebec had come from, and Amanda was honest with her answer. Her boyfriend was from there, and she was spending the summer with him.
Her cell rang, as she sat on her couch, watching some TV. It was the taxi she had called to take her to the airport telling her it was downstairs. She sighed big and lugged all of her bags out of her apartment door, making sure it locked behind her. When she got to the lobby, the security guard helped her get all of her things off the elevator and out the door, where the taxi driver took over and put them into his trunck. She smiled sheepishly at them, thanking them, before climbing into the backseat. She rested her head against the seat as the driver pulled the taxi into traffic, making his way toward Logan International Airport .
- - -
Part of him still couldn’t believe she had agreed to spend the summer with him and been so excited about it. There was no denying they were moving fast, but when it felt so right how could they slow it down? He knew she was uprooting her life for him, and for that he loved her.
He stopped from his pacing back and forth in the waiting area of Jean Lasage International Airport , and he pulled his face together in confusion. Had he really just thrown the word ‘love’ out when thinking about how he felt about Amanda and done it so nonchalantly? He had two options he could think of. One of the options was to was to analyze the crap out of what he had just thought, which meant he would probably just confuse himself further. The second option was to not necessarily ignore it, but to just not actively think about it. He had thought it. It was done. He needed to let his feelings for Amanda come as they did. He couldn’t be scared. She was simply too amazing (whether she realized it or not), and his thoughts about her were too deep to go fucking everything up. Be cool, he told himself.
When he heard from the overhead announcement that her flight had landed, he officially decided on option two. He was too giddy and excited to see the beautiful brunette he had fallen so quickly for to even think about anything else. He sat down on a chair, knowing she had to go through a quick security check before she would be coming to where he was, where he said they would meet. He let out a deep breath and tried to calm himself down as he ran his hands up and down his jeans, trying to get the sweat off his palms.
He didn’t know how long had passed before he saw people coming from arriving security, but he jumped up when he saw them. Getting the attention of a middle aged couple, he asked where they were arriving from, and when they answered Boston he grinned widely and thanked them. As they walked away, he heard the woman whisper (not very quietly), “He’s waiting for a woman. I can tell.” And he was, indeed, waiting for his woman.
He finally saw her coming through security, pushing a luggage cart in front of her. He grinned even wider, if that was possible, taking in her appearance. She was more beautiful than he remembered her being when he had left Boston only two weeks before. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, a few lose strands framing her face, where her glasses sat and no makeup covered. It was just how he liked her. She wore a tight fitting pair of jeans, ballet flats, and a tight, low cut tee shirt. Something primal ignited within him as his eyes dragged up and down her body, something he had desperately missed looking at, not to mention having his hands on.
She finally saw him, her eyes lighting up and a smile spreading across her face. She walked faster, pushing the cart with her, as she headed his way. His feet finally moved him toward her, and they reached each other in seconds. He didn’t stop until his body was right up against hers, his left hand tightly gripping her hip while he placed his right hand on her neck. He crashed his lips onto hers before she could say anything. He usual heat he felt when he kissed her again rose in his body as they touched.
When he finally pulled away from her, she smiled up at him and locking her dark hazel eyes with his brown ones, having nothing else to say but a small “I missed you,” as her hands gripped tightly at his thin white tee shirt. He shook his head, pressing his lips to hers again, this time lightly, running his hands up and down her back. “I told you once, and I’ll say it again… There is no way you missed me as much as I missed you.”
♠ ♠ ♠
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