I paused.
Then, a little softer—
“Which is wild, considering I mostly just have no idea what I’m doing.”
For a second, neither of us spoke.
The road stretched out ahead.
Endless.
Then—
“You’ve been out here on the road for two fucking years,” Crowe it out.
Oh... he was getting into this. Score!
“Uh-huh,” I said, nodding like a professional. “It’s basically my full-time job. I’ve got sponsors who pay me to travel to certain states and towns, and then I write about what I see along the way. I make a bit from social media too, but I’m not a huge fan of editing videos on my laptop, so that’s… not really my brand.”
“You make money doing this?” He sounded so adorably confused I had to physically restrain myself from leaning over and kissing that permanent frown right off his face.
Or, you know. Just kissing him in general.
“Yes!” I said, bright and probably a little too excited. “I mean, I’m not rolling in it like some content creators, but I make enough to keep myself fed, clothed, and I upgraded my laptop a couple months ago, so—growth.”
I shifted in my seat, warming to the topic.
“I figure if I keep at it for a few more years, build up my reputation, get some solid experience, I could land a job with areal magazine or something. People seem to like reading about the characters I meet. The weird little adventures. All the in-between moments.”
I glanced at him, grinning.
“If you’re really lucky,” I added, “and treat merealnice, I might even write about you. Although, I'd probably change your name. You're already a pretty happening dude. Adding a name like Crowe, and they'd accuse me of making you up."
Puh-lease. Like there was any universe where Iwasn’tgoing to write about him.
A boy had to document the exact moment his life derailed because of one grumpy man in a truck. Or as future blog readers would probably know it as:
Chapter Forty-Two: In Which Alfie Meets Mr Right (Now he just needs to convince him)
At that, Crowe went still.
His hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles going just a shade lighter, and something in his expression shifted—sharp, guarded, like a door slamming shut somewhere deep inside him.
Huh. Well, that was telling. I tilted my head, studying him.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “That reaction feels like there’s a story there.”
5
Chapter 4
Seriously.
There had to be a way to shut him up.
A way—that preferrably—didn't include me using my cock to do it. Because somehow I thought the little shit would enjoy that just a bit too much.
Not to mention, it would probably mean a few more sticky feelings than I was truly comfortable with.
