I see him before he sees me. He's carrying a bag in each hand, looking back and forth as he tries to find the girl in the plaid. I'm parked at the end of the terminal, where the rain is pouring off the edge of the roof in a near-constant stream. I smile to myself and watch, enjoying the moment of anonymity. He looks underdressed for the weather in only a t-shirt and jeans (though I appreciate the chance to admire the broadness of his chest). We make eye contact from a hundred feet away and he smiles at the same time as I look down. He breaks into a run and I blush at the cliche. As he nears he drops his bags and pulls me into a warm, tight hug.
"Hey, Red."
I sigh and sink into him,…