He moves back to the bathroom to pack his toothbrush and his deodorant.
“Toothpaste,” I remind him, and watch as he grabs that too and sets it at the top of his bag. Doesn’t even bother to stuff it inside. It dangles there, a bit like me at the moment. “Can I ask where you’re going?”
“Dunno. Somewhere.” He sighs, looking lost. Sad.
I did this to him, I think, just as the toothpaste teeters and falls to the ground. He bends over and swipes it up with a dismayed sigh.
“How long will you be gone?”
“Tonight and tomorrow.”
“That’s all?”
“Yep.”
“Can I…can I come with you?” I ask, and his eyes flash up to meet mine. I wait a beat, an inhaled breath, and then he nods. He looks hopeful again, the gloom hovering over him dissipating almost entirely.
“Yeah, man. You can come with me. If you want to.”
I don’t overthink it. I just know that I miss him. And this might be what we need to repair what I broke. So, without asking too many questions so he can’t change his mind, I quickly grab my suitcase and start packing it.
“We’re only going to be gone for a night,” he says as I grab several shirts and pants, placing them in the suitcase.
“I know, but it’s always good to be prepared.”
I make sure to grab the lube as well, making Caleb choke slightly when he sees it. At least he still wants me. It’s been so long since I’ve had him.
When my suitcase is finally packed, I move to the kitchen to pack a bag of food and water. Just in case of an emergency.
And ten minutes later, we’re buckled in my car, and I ask, “So, where are we going?”
He looks over at me sheepishly. “Dunno.”
My eyebrows rise. “You don’t know?”
“I was just winging it, man. Had no plans. Just wanted to get away.”
“Okay, well, can I make a suggestion then?” I ask.
“Yeah, Whit. Go ahead.”
“I know a place, and I’d like to experience it with you. Does that work?”
His mouth twitches up into a small smile. “Yeah, babe. I’d like that.”
That name. It makes my heart flutter and my cheeks flame. But I say nothing, just type the place into my GPS, and the directions flicker onto the screen.
“It’s about two hours away. Is that okay?”
“Yeah.”
He leans back in the passenger seat, head tipped against the window. He’s watching the cars drive by, but every few seconds, I can feel his eyes on me. He’s terrible at hiding how he feels. And I’m just as bad. I invited myself on this trip, desperate to keep him near me.
Just for a while longer.
For as long as I can hold on to him.
We make our way out of town, switching freeways a few times, the landscape turning more arid and dry the farther east we go. I can feel his nervous, eager energy buzzing between us like a live wire.
