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I stab at the buttons but nothing happens.
Glaring at it, I mutter, “You stupid piece of shit.”
Then I growl and shake it.
“I want my fucking Twix, you idiot.”
I kick at it for good measure.
“I don’t think you get candy that way.”
That voice makes me spin to my right even as I lose coordination in my limbs. I almost fall on the machine I’ve been abusing when I see him.
“You…” I breathe out, looking at him like he’s a ghost.
Am I dreaming?
Did I fall asleep at the wheel? Or maybe I’m in that motel bed right now.
“Hey.”
His rumbly voice makes me feel plenty awake, however.
Super, hyper awake. Like I can hear all the sounds, the buzzing of the overhead light, the low tones of television somewhere.
“What... how... you’ve been following me all day,” I manage to say while my eyes can’t stop gorging on him.
It feels like ages even though I only saw him this morning. In the same clothes.
Except, those clothes are even more rumpled. His sleeves are folded up to his elbows, exposing his tan forearms and his tattoo. His shoes are mud-caked and so are his pants. Don’t even talk about the wrinkled shirt and messy collar.
“Yeah.”
He’s doing the same, gorging on me. His eyes going up and down, sweeping across my wet hair that’s plopping droplets on the floor carpet and soaking the back of the t-shirt that I have on.
His t-shirt.
I grab the hem of it and he notices my nervous twisting. Lifting his lashes, he rasps, “Looks good on you.”
I swallow, remembering how he gave it to me. “Is that why you picked it out?”
There’s no venom in my voice but he still flinches.
“I picked it out because even then, I wanted you to have something of mine. Only, I’m realizing it now.”
His words have always given me a rush. Sadly, a few miles of distance haven’t changed that. I don’t think even light years could change it.
I feel the first flaps of the butterflies in my tummy and it’s very inconvenient when I’m trying to maintain my distance.
“How did you even know where I was?”
“Maggie.”
“What?”
“She told me you were going north. There’s just one highway out of our town and you drive really slow.”
“I don’t drive slow,” I blurt out, the first thing that I can latch on to so I can somehow break the intensity swimming in his eyes.
