Page 94 of Gunnar

I sit back, the back of my neck prickling. I’m the reason for the rift between them. There’s no way around that.

Should I say something? Apologize?

For what exactly—existing?

Finally, we stop descending and level out onto quiet country roads.

It’s a crisp winter day, the sky a pale, unbroken blue. Sunlight catches on patches of snow along the fields.

Something in my chest loosens. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this.

I’ve always been a city girl. But out here, with nothing pressing in on me from all sides, it’s easier to breathe.

The road stretches ahead, long and straight, and I find myself hoping it doesn’t end too soon. I could sit here for hours, looking out at the open land while Gunnar drives beside me, solid and entirely too distracting.

“How does it feel to be out here?” he asks.

“Good,” I say, and then, because that doesn’t quite cover it, “Really good.”

I lean back into the seat.

“I thought it might,” he says. “Can get a bit closed in up there.”

“I’m used to small spaces,” I say. “My entire apartment is smaller than your kitchen.”

That gets a faint reaction from him—not quite a smile, but close.

“But yeah,” I add. “This is… a nice change.”

A few minutes later, Gunnar flicks on the blinker and turns onto a narrower road. At the end of it is a small fuel depot, the kind that looks like it mostly serves locals and passing trucks.

“No one can see you, but stay low anyway,” he says.

I slide down in the seat and pull my cap lower over my face. He gets out, slamming the door behind him.

I stay where I am, letting my mind drift, breathing in the trace of his scent that still hangs in the cab.

Voices carry faintly from outside, then the dull thud of something being loaded into the back. After a few minutes, the driver’s door opens and Gunnar climbs back in, energy still running through him.

“You okay?” he says.

“Never better.”

I wait until we’re back on the road before sitting up again.

“You?”

He shrugs. “Same.”

Then, after a beat, “Used to make Orson do this. Get him talking to people. But I don’t mind it. I like meeting people.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And I thought you were a surly, unsociable bear.”

He snorts. “I can see where you got that impression.”

When we reach the main road again, he doesn’t turn back. We keep going a little farther.

“Is there anything you need from a store?” Gunnar asks.