Luke lounged in the plastic, butt-hugging chair and leaned his head against the wall, his Stetson pulled down low over his brow. He had almost an hour to kill before Birdie’s plane landed and he’d already bought and finished a fifteen-dollar coffee from the Starbuck’s kiosk and got bored looking at the magazines and books they sold in the “convenience” stores dotted along the airport plaza. Folding his hands on his chest, Luke closed his eyes.
You should have told her when she called this morning. If he had, though, Birdie might’ve canceled her whole trip. Luke hadn’t seen his girlfriend for a couple of months, in person at least. Streaming episodes of Gilded Swords while he was puttering around the house didn’t count.
It was a generally known fact that long distance relationships sucked
