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She smiles a little, rolling the back of her head against the headrest as she turns toward me. “And then what?”
“I’ll drop you off at your house so you can take off that godawful shirt.” She’s back in her cheesy tourist t-shirt. I’m messing with her, but her grin keeps growing. “Then I’ll go to mine and finally put on some clean underwear.”
“Gross.”
“What? We stayed an extra night.”
Azalea shakes her head good-naturedly. “And when your dad asks how your trip was?”
Turning serious, I lift our joined hands to my lips. She takes a deep breath in. Slowly, I kiss each of her knuckles, inhaling the scent of her coconut lotion, then press a final kiss to the back of her hand. “I’ll tell him it was the best two days of my life. What will you tell your dad?”
She’s grinning so wide, it looks like her face is about to split in two. “Something very similar.”
Blinded by the sun in the sky and the sunshine in my car, I reach for my shades.
JustovertheIowastate line, we stop at a convenience store. I park next to a gas pump and unbuckle my seatbelt, then reach over to nudge Azalea awake. “Hey. I’m getting gas.”
She takes a moment to get her bearings, yawning and stretching, flattening the palms of her hands against the roof of the car. “Okay. I need to use the restroom. Do you want anything from inside?”
“Can you see if they have any breakfast sandwiches?”
“Sure. I’ll be back.”
We both get out of the car. Azalea heads across the parking lot, and I glance at the price on the pump and wince. Left with no other choice, I swipe my debit card anyway. While the car is filling up, I pull out my phone and scroll. I consider texting Grant and telling him what has transpired with Azalea, but I don’t think I want to share just yet. We’re still in the bubble of our trip, no other parties involved. I want to keep it just for us. Just for a little while longer.
I’m lost in my thoughts, most of them centering around her, as I replace the pump. I have one foot back in the car when the sound of a gunning engine draws my attention toward the street. A gray SUV is turning into the parking lot erratically, taking up two lanes at once and driving way too fast.
I watch as it continues to tear across the lot at a quick clip. A couple of people narrowly jump out of its path as it zooms by.
Movement in the corner of my eye makes me whip my head around, and my heart sinks. Azalea has exited the store. She is walking between two cars parked right by the front door, a fountain drink in one hand and my sandwich in the other. She is heading into the path of the reckless, speeding SUV.
Our eyes meet, and she smiles at me. She has no idea.
“Stop!” I break into a sprint. She’s stepped out from between the cars. She’s in the path of the SUV, and a quick glance to my right confirms that it’s not slowing down. “Azalea, go back! Back up!”
She hears my voice but looks confused. Instead of getting out of the way, she stops in her tracks and looks around.
It’s going to hit her.
My legs burn as I push them to their maximum speed. I see the SUV out of the corner of my eye, bearing down on us.
It happens in a split second but feels like slow motion. I finally reach Azalea and launch myself at her, shoving her back against the asphalt. The drink in her hand goes flying; the sound of ice scattering across the ground echoes in a series of mini explosions. I go down with her, but I haven’t managed to get completely out of the road. I scramble to crawl to Azalea, to safety.
Then comes the pain.
Chapter Nineteen
Azalea
Maverickisscreaming.
I’m sprawled on the warm asphalt, knees skinned and heart pounding but otherwise unharmed. Two feet away from me, Maverick lays facedown, smacking the ground with an open palm, screaming in pain. The noise ripping from his throat is unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. It doesn’t even sound like him.
The gray SUV that came out of nowhere speeds away, turning wildly out of the parking lot and running a red light before disappearing into the distance.
Strangers start jogging toward us. I crawl over to Maverick, trying to catch his flailing hands. “Where are you hurt?”
He doesn’t answer me. I scan his body and am unable to contain my gasp when I see his leg, limp on the ground and bent at an unnatural angle. “Oh my God.”
