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He nodded, unplugging his phone charger and rolling it around his hand. “In prison, it’s all you have.” His gaze landed on mine. “Time in your own head. It can be a dangerous place.”
“That’s no joke,” I said under my breath, rubbing at my eyes. The coffee sitting on the little table called to me. “The really scary part is that I don’t regret it.” I picked up the lidded cup and brought it to my lips, savoring the hot bitterness.
He walked slowly over to me, close enough to touch, but he didn’t. “Then it served its purpose,” he said. “Just like last night.”
I shut my eyes tight. “Oh my God.”
I felt a finger on my chin, and my eyes popped open, feeling that touch spread to every nerve ending.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t be embarrassed.” Amusement played at his mouth. “Think of it as another moment.”
Oh, I’d be thinking about it alright. Every night till the end of time.
I narrowed my eyes as I looked up into a face I’d once loved and I thought loved me back. It was never said, but I hadn’t questioned it. I’d felt it that day under the bridge, whether or not he spent the next six years denying it. I’d spent those same years thinking he’d played me, but all of this... I didn’t know what to think.
“I needed it,” I admitted. “Needed you.” My heart pounded faster as his eyes darkened, and a need to sabotage the moment took over before things got too deep. “Why are you being so nice to me now?” I asked, my voice sounding hoarse to my ears. “You’ve been a dick ever since you’ve been back.”
A laugh transformed his face as he stepped away, busying himself again. “A dick, huh?”
“You wouldn’t even say hello to me on the sidewalk three days ago, and now you’re moving heaven and earth to be here?” I said. “What gives?”
“Nothing,” he said, moving to the other side of the room, avoiding my eyes. “Just doing the right thing.”
My eyes widened. “Doing the right thing?”
He gave me an exasperated look. “Please go get dressed.”
I glanced down at his open fly. “Please zip up your pants.”
His eyes slid down my body to my little purple sleep shorts. The ones I’d never think of the same way again. “Go. Get. Dressed.”
He turned and zipped up, but adjusted first, which told me things I didn’t need to know. Namely, he wanted me. And judging from my traitorous body’s response to that, the only person he’d have to fight on that was himself.
On the road, the first thirty minutes or so were quiet with Lance curled up in the back seat on a towel we stole from the motel as we settled in, each in our own thoughts again. I darted a sideways glance at his profile. Sunglasses hid his eyes, making him look even stonier than usual, but every time we got to talking... or other things like what had transpired the night before... he was a different man.
“So—”
“We don’t need to chit chat, Faith.”
I blinked and tilted my head at the quick cutoff. “Rude?”
“I’m just saying, it’s a long drive, just like yesterday, and—”
“And that was boring as hell,” I said. “We can at least fill some time.”
He shot me a look that I couldn’t see under the shades, but I took to say, ‘If you fucking must’.
I shook my head and went back to staring out my window. Why did I insist on trying with this guy? I had a box of returned letters at home that should be enough proof of his inability to meet me halfway.
I pulled out my phone, checking the local news in Redemption. Possible arson on the late Reverend Noel McMasters’ home was under current investigation. Rumors of possible ties to recent homicides.
“Oh, seriously,” I muttered.
“What?”
I waved a hand in his direction, blowing him off, and got a giddy thrill from seeing his fist ball on the steering wheel.
Yep. Two could play at this game.
