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“No.”
Sleeping with Willow in my arms all night was great…but not in the back of my car.
She laughed and blew another bubble. It popped and she started to laugh. My hand swiped out and I stole the gum from her mouth and stuck it in mine.
Her jaw fell and she looked at me in disbelief. “Dean!” She cried, and rushed me like she was going to tackle me.
I blocked her easily and pulled the gum from my mouth, dangling it above her head. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes!” She jumped, trying to grab the dangling piece with her teeth.
I laughed at her pathetic attempts.
Sticking it back in my mouth I stretched it out, so part of the gum adhered to my finger and pulled, wrapping it around my finger like you saw girls do with their hair in movies.
“Come and get it,” I challenged.
Willow’s eyes sparkled with silent laughter. She grabbed my hand and sucked my finger into her mouth. The gum came off easily and she pulled until it broke off. A piece dangled on her chin and she giggled before using her tongue to pull it in her mouth.
“Sharing is caring.” She winked.
I nodded woodenly, unable to process a coherent thought at the moment.
“So, if we’re not sleeping in the car…where are we going?” She asked, gesturing around to the vacant stretch of road we were on.
“We’ll figure it out.” I shrugged. “We always do.”
I put the cover on the roof of the car and grabbed our bags and my guitar before locking it up.
I held my guitar in one hand and reached for Willow’s with my other. Her fingers twined with mine.
“We can’t walk,” she whined, yanking on my hand and trying to let go. When that failed she locked her legs and I ended up dragging her in the dirt.
“We have to,” I said, focusing on the road ahead.
Always look ahead, never behind. Best advice I’d ever been given.
Willow groaned. “It’ll be miles before we get somewhere. Why don’t we search for an Uber driver?” She reasoned.
I tightened my hold on her hand. “Because I don’t want us to end up murdered.”
“Oh, come on, Dean. We’re not going to get murdered…but we might get eaten by a wild animal if we’re out here long.” She hurried her steps to catch up so that I wasn’t pulling on her.
“I thought you weren’t afraid of anything,” I jested, and adjusted my grip on the guitar case.
“I’m not afraid,” she said the word like it was disgusting and left a bad taste on her tongue, “but I don’t feel like walking for who knows how long.”
I gave her hand a light squeeze and she gazed up at me. “Think of it as another adventure.”
She nodded. “I can do that. I think.”
After about a quarter of a mile, a car passed us and Willow jumped at the opportunity.
She waved her arms, trying to flag them down, and held out her thumb in the hopes they’d stop.
They didn’t.
“Dammit!” She groaned and kicked at the dirt, sending up a dust cloud around us.
