Changes

My eyes widened into large saucers and my jaw slacked, a breath of a gasp sounding from between my parted lips. Pat stood in front of me with a much calmer expression on his face and his hands stuffed deeply into the pockets of his shorts, as if he was waiting for my surprise to subside before speaking. I quickly stood up and tossed my purse behind me into my empty seat, trying to calm the thoughts running through my head.

His eyes stayed locked on mine and he parted his lips slightly, preparing to spill out whatever speech he had prepared on his way to the airport. He took a deep breath and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth; the words ready to spill out of his lips. But I quickly beat him to it; sputtering out the first thing I could think of.

“I left the milk on the top shelf instead of bottom one!” I blurted out, “I was in a rush. I’m sorry.”

He abruptly closed his mouth and a confused expression moved across his features, his eyebrows knitting together and his mouth forming a straight line. He didn’t respond; so with a mind of his own, my mouth kept sputtering out confusing phrases.

“Oh! And I left my spare key on the front table!” I explained, a blush painting its way across my cheeks, “I lost the one for the back door, so it’s only the front door key. I have no idea where the other one is, so I’m sorry about that…”

He reached forward with one hand and wrapped his large fingers around my wrist lightly, immediately making my blabbering mouth swing shut. Fire spread beneath his fingertips and traveled along the length of my arm, sending a case of goose bumps along with it. I shuddered lightly before focusing my gaze back on his. His blue orbs were staring intently into mine.

“Allie…”

He wasn’t there to talk about where I left the milk or where I left the keys. He was there to talk about why I left him, why I bolted out of his house without any explanation or goodbye.

My lips were sealed shut, my blabbering no longer able to save me. And I braced myself for his anger. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d be angry, the situation rolling around in his mind since he had gotten out of bed this morning. Although Pat understood my thinking process better than anyone, he wouldn’t understand this. He’d immediately assume that I was treating him the same way he treated his puck bunnies—one and done. Or two, I reminded myself slyly. I held back a satisfied smirk, tightening my lips into a straight line.

Pat’s eyes still raked my face, looking for any answers to his questions. But ultimately, he loosened his grip on my wrist and retrieved his hand. My arm felt cold without his touch and I had to resist reaching for him. His lips parted; but this time, I didn’t cut him off. He needed to let out whatever thoughts were stewing in his mind.

But surprisingly, he only let out a small whisper, “Why are you leaving?” His voice was thick with sleep and defeat, but just breathed across my ears.

“I have to go home, Pat,” I explained calmly.

He shook his head slowly, “No, you don’t. You can stay here.”

“Not after last night.”

He sighed defeated and the corners of his mouth turned down even further, “Why not?”

I took a deep breath, “It’s not a good time for either of us, Pat. It wasn’t supposed to happen and—”

“It was supposed to happen,” he interrupted quickly. The rest of my rant was perched on the tip of my tongue, but I immediately closed my mouth and sent him a confused look. “I’ve been thinking about it all summer, Al.”

He reached for my wrist again; but this time, he tangled his fingers with mine. I welcomed the warmth and feel of his hands easily and tightened my grip on them.

“Puck bunnies were getting old at the end of the season. They weren’t satisfying anymore. And seeing all the guys around the locker room with their girlfriends and wives—all having someone to go home to at the end of the night—made me start thinking. I wanted more. I wanted something with substance. And then, you came to Chicago. I started thinking about us and what we could be. But at first, I just thought it was because you were convenient. You’ve always been there. And it seemed like an easy way out. But it isn’t.” He took a step towards me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him. I placed my hands on his biceps, feeling the rippling muscles underneath my fingertips. “It’s always been you, Al. It’s always been you. I just needed to open my eyes.”

I continued to stare at him, unable to speak. I opened my lips slightly, but only to let out a large breath that I hadn’t known I was holding. His eyes flickered across my face for a second before he continued his rant, “The kiss; it did that for me—opened my eyes to us. I just needed you to realize it, too. And that’s what happened last night. It was supposed to happen.”

I moved my hands from his biceps to his shoulders and pulled him towards me, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “I think—” I started, but was immediately cut off by the PA system crackling to life.

“Good afternoon passengers! This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to O’Hare Airport in Chicago. Regular boarding will begin in approximately two minutes time. Thank you!” a peppy flight attendant announced over the speakers, before promptly clicking off.

People began filing towards the boarding station, a long, winding line starting to form through the crowds. I sighed and withdrew my hands from his shoulders, only to have his grip on my waist to tighten. He pressed his forehead to mine, his eyelids fluttering closed, “Don’t.”

But I said it anyway, “I think I should go.” He didn’t move—or show any indication that he’d heard me—and kept his hands planted firmly on my hips. I exhaled slowly before attempting to wriggle my way out of his grasp. With my hands against his chest, I pushed heavily against him and tried to pry his hands off of my waist. I squirmed wildly like a restless puppy, but Pat simply stayed still. His eyes were still hidden by his lids and his grip was still tight on my waist. His face was contorted slightly as he tried to process the thoughts flying through his head. I rolled my eyes at his stubbornness and continued to squirm, as he stood there solidly.

“I love you,” he whispered suddenly, his eyes opening and locking on mine. I stopped wiggling and moved my gaze to meet his. “I always have, Al.”

I had to remind myself of the circumstances we were in. He was desperate to get me to stay with him—desperate enough to start saying nonsense. But this was downright insane.

“You—you what?” I stuttered, finally able to conjure up a coherent sentence.

He nodded, a bright smile suddenly appearing across his lips, as he threw his head back in a laugh, “I do, Al. I really do. I love you! And I’m finally just realizing it now, but I do!” A small squeak sounded from between my lips.

He smile faltered slightly and he sighed, “Alright, maybe I don’t know if I love you or not. But, I know that I could love you. If you give me the chance.”

“This is the final boarding call for passengers booked on flight 89B to Chicago. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately,” the flight attendant’s voice rang out again.

I looked towards Pat, ready to tell him that I had to go. But he continued with his rant, not missing a beat, “I need you to give me a chance and I need you to stay.”

I rolled the idea around in my mind once more, before finalizing my decision and shaking my head. “I can’t do either, Pat. I’m sorry.”

His grip of my waist slacked and I quickly took advantage of it, snatching my purse from my seat and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. With a small wave, I turned off my heel and dashed for the boarding station, muttering apologies to the flight attendants. Finally, I moved down the aerobridge, forcing myself to look forwards.