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We remain quiet, and I realize I owe Quinn yet another apology.
“Sorry for before. I never meant all those things I said about Polly. I was just angry because I had my first proper talk with Cynthia, which was just peachy,” I scoff, letting out a frustrated breath.
“This is normal. I mean, you’ve got years of fucked-up shit you need to get out. You deserve to have a tantrum or two.”
Opening my eyes, I turn to face him.
I frown when I see how beat he is. This whole saga,mysaga, has aged us both, and I can’t help but wonder what’ll happen when it’s finally over.
I’m at a significant crossroads in my life, and whichever path I decide to take, I hope Quinn will hold my hand and take it with me because all this seems worthless without him.
“You okay?” he asks, brushing my hair off my face.
“Ask me tomorrow,” I whisper, leaning into his touch. I hope that when tomorrow comes, my answer will be yes.
My heavy eyes flicker open, and I don’t feel tired for the first time in forever.
Looking over at the clock, I see the reason could be because of the marathon sleep I’ve just had.
Over twelve hours ago, I fell asleep in Quinn’s arms, and I woke up the same way.
By his heavy breathing, I know Quinn is still asleep, and I realize this is the first night we’ve had in so long when we’re not sleeping with one eye open, awaiting the police or my father to kick down our door.
This is one big pro of staying here, and I realize I should be a little more grateful.
So I decide here and now that my New Year’s resolution will be just that. I’ll try my absolute hardest to stop losing my shit and also to be a little more patient with Cynthia and Polly.
That thought has me wondering when New Year’s or Christmas actually is, as all my days seem to blur into one lately.
“Why are you up so early?” a croaky voice asks, disturbing my thoughts.
My lips tip up into a small smile as I love the way his husky voice sounds first thing in the morning.
“It’s not early; it’s after nine. We’ve slept for about fourteen hours,” I joke, pulling away from his chest to see his early morning beauty.
When I see him, I barely suppress my sigh as he looks epic. His tousled hair falls over his brow, partially veiling his bright eyes, which are vividly clear when he first arises. This man doesn’t look like he’s just woken up after a lengthy slumber.
I, however, probably look as if a family of ravens has taken up permanent residency in my hair.
“What did you want to do today?” he asks, and I suddenly appreciate the fact we don’t have to pack up and go, leaving behind yet another town that provided us sanctuary for the night.
We don’t have to keep driving until Quinn falls asleep at the wheel, forcing us to check into some shithole motel, only to wake up and repeat the same thing the next day and then the next day after that.
Here, we can be normal. Well, something like normal.
“I’m not sure,” I reply with a yawn. “What day is it?”
Quinn smirks, and the sight has my heart doing a tiny somersault. “It’s Thursday, the twenty-third of December.”
I widen my eyes because there is no way that’s right. “Holy shit! Tomorrow is Christmas Eve?”
He nods.
“Damn, how did that go by so quickly?”
“The fact we’ve been running since Thanksgiving might have something to do with it.”
He’s right.
