Far Love (Book 1)

14 | Lilly & Max

September 15th, 2023

I and Dylan both agreed that he should just fly to LA, where I can pick him up, and from there I can drive us to Claremont.

It was the smartest plan since the drive from Seattle to LA is over seventeen hours.

I pull up to the curb at LAX and wait for Dylan to come to the car. My palms sweat as I wait, slowly realizing he is about to see the way I drive. Why is that the thing that's making me nervous right now?

I see his frame come up to the back of the car through the rearview mirror and get out of the car.

I wipe my palms on my jeans as I walk up to him. I silently take his carry-on bag and put it in the truck then I turn toward him awkwardly. We are super close over the phone and usually talk about almost anything, but seeing the person that you've been seeing through pixels for the past month is a different thing. Not to mention the people around us staring because he's Dylan Woods. I roll my eyes internally.

"So..."

He chuckles and puts his hands in his pockets, "So."

In an attempt to make conversation I start to say, "You're going to have to direct me to your house," but then there is a long, loud honk.

I sigh and try to smile as we both turn toward our own sides of the car.

When we are both inside and pulling out of the spot on the curb, he says, "Thanks for picking me up I am tired as shit."

I laugh, "I thought you should be used to this stuff, don't you travel a lot?" The memory of seeing Dylan with his ex-girlfriends on trips chimes in my head and I feel jealousy pang through me—even though they are long gone.

We sit in uncomfortable silence, the purr of the car the only sound for at least five minutes until I work up the confidence to say, "Sorry, I'm nervous, it's a little different when you're actually here."

He chuckles, "It's okay. How about we start with how you are?"

I smile a little, "I'm okay," I turn my head to look at him for a semi-second, "Excited to see you."

He returns a smaller smile, "I'm happy to be here with you..." he looks out at the road, "How about some lunch?" he asks. Looking at the clock, it's 2:00, but I'm assuming he's hungry from his flight so I nod and we figure out what we want.

We end up walking up to a small food truck on a corner in the outer parts of LA, with little benches around it.

As we step up to the menu on the side of the truck, he puts his arm around my lower back, resting his hand on my outer hip. I step closer so our bodies are flush.

"I think I'll get a quesadilla," I announce.

He nods and walks to the window, grabbing my hand now. The touching felt weird since I didn't know where we stood. Are we both thinking of going for that next step—a relationship—or is he thinking of just staying friends? Either way, I'd be fine, if I'm lying to myself though I'd say I wanted to be friends.

He orders our food and we grab a bench with a table in front of it. We loosen up while we eat and eventually, we are both laughing over a joke he made about croutons.

We finish up our food and he stands from the spot he was sitting and puts his hand out, "Ready to go?"

I giggle, "Yeah, I'll just clean this up."

He looks down at the food and with one hand he grabs my hand and somehow picks everything up in one of his larger, stronger hands. He winks at me as he walks to a trash can to throw away our trash.