Saying Goodbye, Part Two (Passports and Promises Book 1) (2 page)

I’d been numb since I found my ex-boyfriend Dylan Hunter in a nearly catatonic state in his apartment. He was still in a mental hospital back home, battling depression and a host of demons I knew nothing about. I liked the numbness. It protected me, sheltered me, like a cool, dark cave. I could almost feel my lungs closing up again and another anxiety attack coming on at the thought of losing that safe haven. At the idea of feeling something, anything for another person. And I made a promise to Dylan before I left. I swore to him I’d be there, waiting for him, when he finally woke up.

Guilt weighed on me like a heavy cloak. I had no right to be happy, not until I knew he was better. Only then would I allow myself to move on and live a normal life again.

I tossed and turned, and finally picked up my phone. My parents were fourteen hours behind, so it was nearly ten o’clock in the morning there. My mom answered on the first ring.

“Sam? How was your trip?”

I told her all about the flight and the hotel. When I mentioned the Scottish rugby player, she started to laugh. “Was he wearing a kilt?”

I tried to picture Thomas MacGregor in a kilt, shirtless, and the effect proved oddly appealing. “No, just jeans,” I said quietly as I slipped into the bathroom. I didn’t want to bother Hana, but probably needn’t have worried. She snored softly, the covers pulled completely over her head. I sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“Any news from Mrs. Hunter?”

There was a long pause. “He’s the same. She said this medication doesn’t seem to be working, so they’re switching to something else. It’s a long, slow process, Sam.”

I nodded, looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I’d gained back a bit of the weight I’d lost thanks to my mom’s cooking over break, but still had a haunted look in my eyes. I wondered if it would ever go away. Images of Dylan lying in a heap on his couch still visited most of my nightmares. In some of the dreams, I got there too late and he was already dead. In others, he pointed a finger at me and said,
“You did this, Sam.”

“Sweetie, you need to leave this behind you.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

My mom sighed, and I felt the weight of worry in her voice even though we were thousands of miles apart. “There is nothing you could do to help Dylan, even if you were here standing by his bedside every minute of every day. You can’t fix it. No one can. It started long before you even knew him.”

I cradled my phone against my cheek and nibbled on my thumbnail; a horrible, nasty habit I’d acquired only recently. “But maybe it would be better for him if I was there…”

“Stop it. You’ve been given a great opportunity, one you’ve always dreamed about. If you spend the entire semester worrying about Dylan, you aren’t really going to experience it, and you may never get to do something like this ever again.”

“You’re right, but I just don’t know how to stop thinking about Dylan.”

“You just have to compartmentalize it. It’s like that song I used to sing when you were small.
Put your worries in a box and tuck them away.
”

I smiled at the memory. My mom, the kindergarten teacher, had a happy, motivational song for every occasion. “
And bring them back out on a bright, sunny day
.”

“It’ll all seem better in the morning, dearest. I promise. And if I hear anything from the Hunters, anything at all, I’ll call you right away.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now get some rest and have a wonderful time in Tokyo. And Sam, if that Scottish boy puts on a kilt, I want a picture.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t see that happening, but sure.”

I hung up the phone and walked over to the window, staring out at the vast, sparkling city in front of me. Neon lights blinked and taxis maneuvered through the dark streets. It was late, but the city seemed so vibrantly alive. I touched my forehead to the cool glass of the window, soaking up the moment and the pure emotion of finally being here.

I’d dreamed of coming to Japan for so long, and my mom was right. I couldn’t do anything for Dylan right now, but if I wasted this experience I’d regret it forever.

Suddenly, exhaustion hit me. I left the curtains open and curled up in my comfortable bed. The lights of a nearby pachinko parlor blinked on and off, casting a rainbow of colors on the ceiling of my room, but it didn’t disturb me. The night sounds of Tokyo felt like a lullaby to my ears. I fell asleep almost instantly, a smile playing on my lips. I’d finally made it here. This was actually happening.

CHAPTER TWO

T
he next morning, we had a breakfast orientation with a bunch of other students in a large conference room. The orientation had been organized for students going to universities in many different parts of Japan, a big group, but as soon as I walked into the room, I saw Thomas MacGregor. He stood at least a head taller than anyone else, and his nametag said Ritsumeikan on it, too. Of course. It figured that out of all the schools in Japan, he would end up at mine. He made a beeline to where I stood.

“Uh-oh,” said Hana. “Here comes trouble.”

I turned my back to him, pretending I hadn’t seen him, suddenly very interested in a blank spot on the wall. I felt him behind me before he even spoke. He took up so much space with his gigantic body he seemed to change the very atmosphere with his presence. He cleared his throat. I ignored him. He tried it again. I shot him a look over my shoulder.

“What?”

“Either that wallpaper is very interesting, or you’re a bit upset with me, Samantha Barnes.”

The way he said “very” came out as “
verra
.” Normally, I would have found it adorable. Today, not so much.

“Why would I be upset with you?”

His wild mane of hair had been combed into submission and his clothes looked clean and tidy, quite a difference from the night before. Hana stood next to me, sipping orange juice and watching our interaction with interest. Thomas shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his cheeks turning pink.

“I came over to apologize to the both of you. I understand I didn’t behave very appropriately last evening.”

Hana narrowed her eyes. “Sam is the one who deserves an apology. I was just an innocent bystander. You didn’t call
me
names.”

Thomas looked mortified as his blue eyes met mine. “I called you names?”

The cadence of his voice mesmerized me, the sound making me think of windswept Scottish hills covered in heather. His words came out like “
Aye culled yu nems?”
Trying hard not to focus on the music of his accent, I kept my expression stern.

“Yes, you did.”

He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “I honestly can’t remember. What did I call you?”

I pretended to think about it. “I believe you said I was prickly.”

Hana nodded, trying not to laugh. “You called her a thistle.”

The look of relief on his face was almost comical. “That’s all?”

“Yes. And I called you a Scottish ox, so I guess we’re even.”

He grinned, the effect lighting up his face. “Well, that’s the truth. I am a great Scottish ox, so I deserved the insult.”

“Okay then.”

I turned away, pretending to be intrigued by the assortment of pastries on the table behind us. Hana went to get plates and napkins. Thomas leaned closer.

“I have to tell you the truth. I hate to fly. I took a motion sickness tablet before we took off from Edinburgh, and accidentally doubled the dosage.”

“Uh-oh.” I kept my eyes trained on the sweet rolls, trying to ignore his nearness. I actually felt the heat radiating from his body.

“And it did not combine well with the drinks I had when we arrived at the hotel. I was a wee bit out of my mind. I honestly cannot remember much from last evening.”

I finally turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “So you weren’t a drunken Scottish ox, you were a drugged Scottish ox?”

He laughed. “Precisely.”

Hana handed me a plate and I gave him a tight, little smile. “As I said before, it’s fine. Goodbye.”

I grabbed the first pastry I saw, and sat down at a table as far away as possible from Thomas MacGregor. Hana sat next to me.

“He’s pretty hot.”

“I noticed.” I took a bite of pastry, a cheese Danish. I’d gotten lucky. Cheese Danishes were my favorite.

“He’s pretty interested, too.”

Thomas sat with his friends. They seemed like a fun group, and got lots of attention from the women in the room. He caught me ogling him and gave me a slow, sexy smile. I scowled and went back to eating my Danish.

“But I’m not, and I never will be.”

Hana knew all about Dylan, so she didn’t seem surprised. “It’s too soon right now, Sam, but never say never. Give yourself some time. Maybe later, you’ll be willing to give him a chance.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. Even if it weren’t for the fact I’m here only to study, even if it weren’t for…the other stuff, I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I don’t want a boyfriend or a hook up. I don’t want to have someone I’m ‘talking’ with. I don’t want anything. I just want to be by myself, unhindered, for the first time in a long time. Do you know I’ve had a boyfriend constantly since the sixth grade? I’m like a serial dater. It’s pathetic.”

“Boyfriends can be habit forming. Having that kind of attention is nice.”

“It’s addictive. I’m an addict. And I think it’s time to check myself into rehab. Japan is my rehab, Hana. My time to be alone and figure things out.”

“So you’re swearing off men?”

I took a long sip of coffee. “It’s the right thing to do. I just know it.”

“Okay, then, but can I give you some advice?” I nodded, and she continued. “Stay far away from Thomas MacGregor. That man is like crack to a boyfriend addict. He’d be awfully hard to resist.”

At that moment, he threw back his head and laughed at something one of his friends had said, the deep, throaty sound sending shivers across my skin, and I knew Hana was right. Thomas was dangerous, and I needed to avoid him at all cost.

The only problem turned out to be Thomas himself. He didn’t try to speak to me again, but sat near me at every workshop throughout the day. The first time he did it, he gave me a look, challenging me to get up and move. I didn’t, and he acted like he’d won a small victory. After that, I just tried to ignore him, but it was awfully hard to ignore a giant, loud Scottish shadow. When he sat at the table right next to ours at dinner, I groaned, and when we decided to go out to a bar with a group of Ritsumeikan students afterwards, he joined the group, along with his rugby friends.

I maintained my distance as best I could, but found myself drawn to him. I stayed on the perimeter of the group, but laughed along as he told stories and joked with his friends. I barely sipped my beer, knowing alcohol would not aid in my struggle to stay away from Thomas. I’d always been an affectionate drunk, and a few beers would be all the incentive I needed to get close to him, to climb on his lap and run my fingers through his ridiculous hair. I gave myself an internal shake. If this was where my mind was going, it meant trouble.

When Hana and I got up to dance, I felt his eyes follow me. I wore a black mini-skirt with heels and a soft, gray blouse. The heels made me taller than all the girls and even most of the guys in the room, but not Thomas. He still towered over me.

When the music slowed, he got up and walked toward me. I immediately darted to the ladies room in a panic and stayed there until the music picked up again. I did it every time there was a slow song. As I exited after my third stint in the restroom, Thomas waited for me.

“Either you have a problem with your bladder, or you’re trying to avoid dancing with me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Prove it.” He reached for my hand and led me onto the dance floor. I wanted to dig in my heels and refuse, but pride wouldn’t let me do it. I lifted my chin and met his gaze.

“Why are you so pushy?”

He shrugged. “I see no harm in wanting to dance with a pretty girl.”

“You don’t look like the dancing type.”

His eye twinkled. “Well, Miss Barnes, I think I’m going to have to prove you wrong.”

The way he said “Miss Barnes” was so like Dylan it almost physically hurt. I stumbled and he steadied me with his hand on my elbow.

“No worries, Nervous Nelly,” he said, mistaking my reaction. “You’re going to be fine.”

He requested a song from the DJ, a big band number, and swung me around the floor in his strong arms, making it look effortless. I had no clue what to do, but soon I let go and just had fun with it.

Thomas directed me with his hands and his body, leading me around the room, humming along to the music. For someone so big, his movements were elegant. Graceful. He was good. He actually made me look good, too.

A crowd assembled around us, cheering us on. I got into it, wiggling my hips as I danced and squealing when Thomas lifted me into the air. Everyone clapped when the song finished. He led me back to our table, both of us a little out of breath and laughing.

“How do you know how to dance like that?” I asked as we sat down.

“My grandmum. She made me do it. I took ballroom dancing lessons for years.”

“That was actually…fun.”

He put his arm around my chair and leaned closer. “I’m not that bad when you get to know me, in spite of your first impression.”

I swallowed hard. “Well, thanks for the dance.”

I got up to leave and he followed me. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“Back to the hotel. I’m tired. Jet lag and all that.”

My eyes scanned the room for Hana. She sat with a bunch of students, talking and drinking. She didn’t look ready to leave yet, but I couldn’t stay any longer. Dancing with Thomas had put me in the danger zone. I needed to get away.

“Tell Hana I’m walking you home,” said Thomas.

“There’s no need…” I began, but he waved away my protests.

“You said you wanted to leave. She obviously isn’t ready to go. I’m not letting you walk through the streets of Tokyo alone.”

I raised one eyebrow at that. “You’re not
letting
me?”

“Aye. I’m a stubborn Scottish ox, and I won’t discuss it further. Let Hana know, and get your coat.”

I glared at him, but we both knew I’d backed myself into a corner. When we stepped outside, the chill in the air made me tie the belt of my black wool coat tighter around my waist. Thomas, still in his short-sleeved shirt, seemed impervious to the cold.

“Where is your coat?” I asked.

Although warmer than back home, the January wind in Tokyo still pierced me with its icy claws, making me shiver.

He gave me a rather arrogant look. “I’m from Scotland, lass. Tis like a warm spring day to me.”

“Which part of Scotland are you from?”

“Edinburgh, but I go to university at St. Andrews. I technically had enough credits to graduate fall semester, which we call Martinmas, but I decided to wait so I could come here.”

“Martinmas? That’s adorable. What do you call winter semester?”

“Candlemas.”

“Even cuter.”

The hotel lights shone in front of us. We had only a few blocks left to walk. In spite of the late hour, the crowds surprised me. For a weeknight, an awful lot of people hurried along the sidewalk.

We got some curious glances, even though I’d read people in Tokyo had grown accustomed to foreigners, far more than in other parts of Japan. I heard a few whispers of
gaijin da
(foreigners) and
sei ga takai
(tall). I would have thought they just spoke about Thomas’ height, but compared to the average Japanese women, I looked like a giantess. A virtual Amazon.

“What do you want to do after you graduate?”

“I plan to do my post graduate studies in the States next year in linguistics. I’d like to be a translator.”

I came to a dead stop. “Really?”

“Aye.”

I started walking again. “That’s why I’m here. To get into my school’s Translation Studies Program, at the Institute of Applied Linguistics.”

He looked at me in surprise. “The Institute of Applied Linguistics? It’s on my short list of schools. I should hear back from them by next month.”

I ducked my head. “Wow. Small world.”

He nudged me with his elbow. “It looks like we have more in common than you might have realized.”

“Do you speak Japanese?”

“A bit.”

“Do you know any other languages?”

“I learned to speak Gaelic growing up, and I’m fluent in Chinese.”

“No way.”

He grinned. “Yes way. We lived in Shanghai for a while when I was a lad. I picked it up then. I’ve always been interested in languages. I feel like you discover a different side of yourself as a person in every language you speak. Do you know what I mean?”

“Oddly enough, yes, I do. This is so weird. I thought you were going to tell me you planned to play professional rugby or something.”

He shrugged. “I have thought about it. A few teams contacted me to see if I might be interested, but I had to turn them down.”

“Why?”

“My da was a professor at the University of Edinburgh. He passed away last year. Colon cancer. Horrific.” He paused for a moment. “I promised him, before he died, I’d finish my studies first, before I even considered playing professionally. I think he only meant to hold me to undergrad, but I knew he’d be happier if I went to grad school, too. It’s what he always imagined for me.”