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He leads me across the parking lot to his work truck, then opens the passenger door and helps me climb in. He shuts the door, and I take a deep breath, inhaling the smell that’s part grease and work truck, part cologne.
“Somehow this truck smells like you,” I tell him as he climbs in the driver’s seat, immediately starting the engine up and adjusting the heat to face me.
“I’m going to pretend you mean that in a masculine way and not like a dirty gym sock way.”
“Ruggedly masculine. Of course.” I kick some Red Bull cans out of the way as I pull my legs up and curl them underneath me. The sun is shining brightly but it’s no match for the bitter bite of the spring air. I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I had thought to grab my sweater from the coat rack.
Emmett looks at me out of the corner of his eye before twisting his big body in the seat and fumbling for something in the back. He comes back around with a dark green sweatshirt and tosses it at me. I unfold it and instantly burst out laughing.
“Why on earth do you have a sweatshirt with Kenny Chesney’s face on it? I know you like him, but I didn’t think those feelings were strong enough to purchase some old-school memorabilia.” I slip it on, burying my nose in the neck of the sweatshirt. I think he’s worn this once already, because I can still smell a hint of laundry soap along with a smell that’s so him. “Now this smells like you, for sure.”
“We were working in this ridiculously small town for a few weeks. I had a short break and wanted to get away from the site, so I strolled through a huge flea market they were having. Spotted that shirt from a mile away and it made me think of you. Do you remember junior prom? You made me stand on the dance floor while you and Heather and whoever else—”
“Tasha,” I interrupt.
“Tasha,” he echoes. “You guys made me stand there while you danced around me, remember that?”
How could I forget? That night will forever be ingrained in my mind as one of the best nights of my life. And now, my whole life fits in two large suitcases, packed with clothes, scrubs, and toiletries, but I have a tiny box of sentimental items I take with me wherever I go, that photo sits at the top.
“That night was so fun.”
“That night was embarrassing.”
“Then don’t make promises you can’t keep, Owens.”
He reaches over to squeeze my knee, still tucked inside his warm sweatshirt as he backs out of the parking lot. “Where to,Watkins?”
I crawl over until I’m seated in the center of the cab of the truck, leaning over to rest on his shoulder as he drives. “Anywhere—anywhere but here.”
He drives for hours, creeping through every neighboring residential town, one arm on the wheel, the other never leaving its resting spot on my knees. I become oblivious to the sights and sounds around us until he pulls into a parking lot, putting the truck in park but leaving the engine running.
“Remember this place?”
“Mattson Park.” The park he took me to the night I left home.
“Remember the party we had here the night before you left for school? Kyle Robinson got so drunk he jumped into the water naked.”
“Not before slipping on the dock and wrecking his knee first.” I smile at the memory. “I rememberyoualmost skinny dipping that night.”
“Almost being the operative word. I kept it classy and kept my undies on.”
“Oh, I remember.” I turn to him, inching closer in the seat. “Emmett. Seriously, if you hadn’t been there today . . .”
He cuts me off as he shakes his head. “I couldn’tnotbe here. I knew it would be rough. I knew you’d pretend it’d all be okay, but it wouldn’t be.”
“You always know what I’m thinking.”
He stretches an arm out, opening a space for me to crawl further into his hug, so I rise onto my knees and cuddle up next to him, his arm draped over me, warming me more than the sweatshirt and the heat from the truck combined.
For the next few hours, we sit like that, him with his arms around me, fingertips grazing up and down my back, reaching up to twist a random lock of loose hair. We talk about school; about my looming graduation and the long hours he works. We talk until the sun sets beyond the water and the clock hits nine and he has to leave.
When he drops me off, I stand on the front porch, arms wrapped around myself as I force a smile and wave as I watch his taillights disappear into the night.
Chapter Eight
Present Day
“M
