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“No touching and no talking about the past. That’s it. That’s all I ask.” My request comes out as a rushed mumble. I wonder if she even understood what I said.
“Everett, I didn’t think… I didn’t mean it like that—”
She’s speaking a mile a minute, her words coming out just as rushed as mine.
“I know you didn't,” I interrupt. “I just… I think it would be best if we set some boundaries, okay?”
A beat of silence passes before she nods her head and responds.
“No, you’re right,” she clips. “I think that’s a great idea. No touching and no talking about the past, got it.” She folds her arms across her chest, staring out of the passenger window.
She’s trying her best to act like me pulling away didn’t affect her, but I know it did. I can hear it in her melancholy voice, a tone that was playful less than two minutes ago.
“Skylar…” She’s embarrassed, and I don’t know what to say to make it better. I feel like such an asshole. I practically jolted away from her like she has rabies or something.
“Everett, it’s fine,” she snaps. “Just drive. Weren't you the one bitching about getting a late start? The weather’s not going to hold off just for us.” She fixes her gaze back on me. Her cheeks are flushed red in humiliation, and her eyes have changed from silver to a deep blue, almost cerulean.
“You’re right,” I reply softly, nodding my head. Shifting the truck into drive, I press my foot to the pedal and begin the longest trip of my life.
FIVE
Skylar
We left Dallas a little over two hours ago and haven’t spoken a word to each other since. The ride has been filled with nothing but awkward silence, aside from the soft indie music lulling through the speakers.
It could be worse,I think to myself. At least Everett has good taste in music.
As soon as we hit the road, I pulled out my Kindle from my bag so I could pretend to read. There was no way I could actually focus on a book after being absolutely humiliated by Everett in the parking lot of my condo.
You would have thought I was infected with a life-threatening virus by the way he hastily pulled away from me, like my touch was some kind of death sentence. I barely touched him, yet he acted like I grabbed his face and stuck my tongue down his throat. It was an innocent shove in response to his narcissistic comment, a natural reaction that required no thought. In my mind, there was no meaning behind it, but it obviously meant more to him. It meant enough for him to set rules for the trip.
No touching and no talking about the past.
Regarding the no-touching rule, I don’t have a problem with that. I would actually prefer that we keep our hands far away from each other. It just pisses me off that he’s acting like my touch was a love confession.
Get over yourself, dude.
Surprisingly, the second rule is one I wish we could break. The only reason I even considered riding with him was to hopefully talk about what happened between us. I know it would be an uncomfortable conversation to have, but it would be worth it to finally clear the air.
I’m just tired. I’m tired of dancing around each other at family gatherings. I’m tired of lying and making excuses so I can avoid him. I’m tired of acting shy and withdrawn when we’re in the same room, worried that if I stare at him the wrong way, everyone will know our secret. It’s unbearably awkward and exhausting, and I’m just over it.
I’m marrying his brother, and I’m sure he’ll marry one day too. Whether we like it or not, we’re going to be around each other for the rest of our lives. If we all have children, I don’t want my kids to miss out on having a relationship with their family because of what happened between us years ago. We can’t avoid each other forever. I thought it would get easier, but it’s only gotten harder with time.
I would love nothing more than to act like adults and stop beating around the bush, but after the way Everett overreacted to my playful shove, I sure as hell am not about to bring up the past. I’ll happily keep to myself for the remainder of the trip.
Except I need to pee, likereally reallyneed to pee.
My foot taps against the floorboard, causing my knee to bounce up and down in a repetitive motion. Since it takes a literal lifetime to drive out of the state of Texas, I stare out the window to observe the flat land surrounding the open highway. We’re in the middle of nowhere with nothing to see but farmland spotted with hay bales and dead grass for miles. The mid-morning sun is shielded by ashen clouds that cast a blue-gray glow across the barren plains. Paired with freezing temperatures, it’s very much giving Forks, Washington vibes, minus the towering trees.
Clasping my hands in my lap, I link my fingers together and suck in a deep breath. I close my eyes and send up a silent prayer that we’ll pass a gas station soon because I refuse to embarrass myself again today. One time was one too many, especially when Everett is involved.
I catch Everett out of the corner of my eye as he reaches to turn down the radio. The pads of his long fingers wrap around the knob and twist before flooding the truck with silence. I keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead, but I physically feel his gaze, like a fire igniting against my skin. An unwanted heat swims through my veins as his eyes examine my quivering limbs.
“You good?” He chuckles, his deep voice laced with amusement like he already knows why I’m having a hard time sitting still.
Because I’m stubborn and maybe a little bit petty, my initial thought is thathewas the one to break our silence first. It’s a stupid thought because the quiet game is for children. But for some reason, it feels like a win.
My breath hitches when I turn to look at him.I realize it’s the first time I’vereallylooked at him since we started the drive, and I genuinely regret it.
