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I turn to face him, curling my fingers. My nails digging into the skin of my palm a welcome distraction. “What is it?” I sigh.
His eyes flash down to my chest and back up before he turns his head back toward the road. “I know you said it’s nothing but…” His voice trails off, hands tightening around the steering wheel. “Ava, that doesn’t look like nothing.” Turning his head toward me, he lifts one hand and hesitates before gripping the wheel again. “I'm worried about you.” He murmurs, a slight flush to his cheeks.
My heart blossoms as his concern washes over me.
I’m grateful to have a friend who cares.
I’m struck again with the realization that that’s all I am. Grateful. I'm not swooning or desperate to get his arms around me. No, the only desire I now have for this man, who has been my obsession for over two years, is to keep our easy friendship.
I'm suddenly struck with the reminder that he had wanted to talk about something. Desperate to get the conversation away from the current topic, I ask, “What did you want to talk about?”
Tyler snaps his attention back to the road, shoulders tensing.
Uh oh. This can’t be good.
I hold my breath, nails still digging into my skin.
It feels like an eternity before he finally blows out a heavy breath and mumbles a response. “I, um, I was wondering if you…” He trails off, flicking his eyes between me and the road, a blush forming on his cheeks.
I wait in silence for him to continue. When it becomes clear he isn’t going to, I relax one hand and reach out to lay it on his bicep. Tyler stiffens at the touch and I resist the urge to pull back.
Drawing his attention back on me, I prod, “You were wondering?” I keep my tone soft and eyes kind, hoping to alleviate some of the stress he’s feeling, even as everything insideis screaming at me to let it go. That I don’t want to know whatever terrible secret he’s about to share.
He stares at me for so long I start to get nervous we’re going to crash.
Wouldn’t that be just perfect, dying twice in one week.
I bite my cheek to keep in the inappropriate laughter at my own dark humor.
Groaning, Tyler gives in while moving his focus back to the road, much to my relief. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in a, uh, a date.” He mumbles, his cheeks reddening further as he chews on his bottom lip. My mouth falls open at his quiet question.
A date? Tyler is asking me on a date?
My mind is reeling as I am frozen in place. He shifts in his seat, nervous tension radiating off of him. “Um, with me. If that wasn’t obvious.” He lets out an awkward chuckle.
I try to force myself to respond but, much like with the messages earlier, my body has disconnected from my control.
I should be excited. This should be the single greatest moment of my life. So why do I want to say no?
My stomach rolls as dark hair and a silver-speckled beard pop into my mind.
You know why.
I grow angry at that stupid voice. When did I become the kind of person who argues with themself?
Maybe the same time you decided to beg for a stranger’s cock right after he barged into your apartment to kill you.
My face heats and I suddenly feel very sick. Breaking out of my stupor, my hand flies to my mouth as nausea rolls through me. “Pull over.” I beg around my palm, trying to keep the gags back.
Tyler fixes a concerned look my way, no doubt thinking my reaction is toward him. “What’s wrong?” He asks, still driving forward.
I can feel the bile building. Trying my best to keep my tone light, I snap at him, “Pull the fucking car over if you don’t want vomit all over the place.”
Tyler’s eyes round to saucers and we are on the side of the road in seconds. I scramble out of the truck and, immediately after my feet hit the gravel, I double over, vomit spewing from my mouth. I feel a presence approach behind me but can’t acknowledge Tyler around my body lurching. A hand rubs soothing circles on my back, causing tears to prick at my eyes.
He deserves better than this. Better than me.
Continuing his soft touch, Tyler stays with me as I empty my stomach. My heaves continue long after everything has been expunged. Everything but the one thing I need to be - my memories. I’m able to straighten on shaky legs, embarrassment filling me.
