I didn’t expect two separate rooms, and the truth is I don’t want to be alone. Alone has been my anthem for too long, a quietness that feels heavy at times, like an anchor wrapped around my heart keeping me from drifting out to sea to discover what lies beyond.
I pretend I’m floating, sleep lulling me easily.
Something soft rubs against my cheek before I jostle awake. My eyes are slow to open and even slower to focus. Milo’s face hovers above me, and that’s when I realize I’m in his arms. He’s carryingme. Again, but this time it’sin public.
His eyes meet mine as he balances me while using a key card to unlock a door. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
I scramble to stand up like the adult woman I am, feeling my cheeks flush. “Sorry,” I say, my feet fumbling beneath me. He leaves his arm around me to keep me steady.
“Sorry for what? Being tired?” He smiles as he opens the door with the hand that isn’t resting against my ribs.
I take a step back, wiping at my clothes. “You could have just woken me up,” I mumble.
“You looked too peaceful,” he replies.
I swallow. “My suitcase.”
“I’ll get it,” he says as he lets go of me and gestures toward the open door. “Why don’t you pick what bed you want? I’ll be right back.”
I nod, walking through the doorway.
The room is standard. Two queen beds with quilts that seem to be made of burgundy plastic. Carpet with fewer fibers than a pair of socks. A television, small refrigerator, and an air freshener in the corner puffing out fragrance to make you believe the room is clean.
I choose the bed farthest from the door.
Milo returns in less than three minutes with my heavy suitcase and a backpack.
“Is that all you brought?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t need much.”
He shuts the door, making sure all three locks are secured, then turns to assess the room. “Not bad,” he says, his tone teasing.
I laugh. “Not great, either.”
“It’ll do for the night.” He crosses the room to grab a flimsy stand that doesn’t look nearly strong enough to hold my suitcase, but he attempts it anyway. “What all did you bring?”
“I didn’t know where we were going, so I kind of packed a little of everything,” I say, defending my very full suitcase with the zipper struggling to keep it all together.
“Fair enough,” he replies, taking off his hat to run a hand through his wild blond hair.
“Milo?” My voice sounds small.
He looks up at me, eyes wide. “I’m here.”
“Thank you.”
He nods, no other words needed between us. “Do you need a shower?”
I stand from the bed, my body heavier than I remember it being this morning. “Yeah.”
“Did you pack your shower in this suitcase? Because it’s probably more sanitary than what’s in there,” he jests as he tilts his head toward the bathroom.
“Unfortunately, no. I’ll just have to brave it,” I reply with a slight smile.
“Do it for the plot.” He repeats the phrase he told me before climbing the water tower, words that bolstered me in the moment my heart needed it.
I laugh lightly. “Sadie Summers Conquers the Gross Motel Shower,” I say.
