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“Hey,” Jessica said. I could hear her smile through the phone. “Made any moves on Professor Ellis yet?”
I winced and glanced at Rhys, who was grinning and shaking his head, trying not to laugh. I turned toward the window to prevent him from hearing anything further. “Jessica... Rhys—Professor Ellis—gave your phone number to someone.” It sounded just as absurd as I expected it would, but to my surprise, she broke out in a laugh.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“He—I needed a car, and Bill, the owner of that rare bookshop, gave us a hard time—”
“You’re with Rhys right now? Oh my good—”
“He gave your number to Bill in exchange for the car for the night.”
“Bill, the owner of that old bookshop on the corner?”
“Yes...” I turned my head and glared at Rhys, who was biting down on his lower lip to stop from laughing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know professors had access to the full directory—”
“I was wondering how he got my number,” she laughed, sighing deeply. “He just texted me like five minutes ago. We’re going out next week when I get home.”
I hung up on her and turned to Rhys, dramatically tossing my phone in the backseat.
“Do you have something to say?” he asked, arching his brow.
“Did you know about Bill and Jessica?”
“I know she went into the bookshop that day I ran into the two of you on the street.”
“She’s going out with him next week.” I sank into my seat and stared out the window. Streetlight illuminated the car as we drove out of town, to where, I wasn’t really sure. I was just along for the ride.
I was admittedly a little jealous of Jessica and Bill. They could just go out with each other with no hesitation, no sneaking around, no repercussions.
Meanwhile, Rhys and I were skipping town completely.
“I’m sorry I did that,” he said after a moment. “I just—We needed a way—”
“I know,” I breathed, reaching over and laying my hand on his thigh. He took one hand off the wheel and knitted his fingers in mine. “Where are we going?”
“Sleepy Hollow.” He leaned his head against the headrest and stared out the windshield. “It’s about an hour away. We can stay as long as you want.”
“Like, the night?”
He smiled but didn’t look over at me. “Yeah, we can stay the night.”
SLEEPY HOLLOW WASN’T appropriately named. While the town was small and historic, it boasted a surprisingly lively nightlife scene that caught us both off guard. Our whim had turned into a whole event that started the second we pulled into the first hotel we saw.
It was a bed and breakfast, the kind with lace doilies on every surface and a very elderly woman running the whole place by herself. She showed us to our room, which had a very impressive four-poster bed and antique furniture, and then casually warned us about the ghosts.
Great, I thought, nervously tucking my hand in Rhys’ as we looked around the room.
I couldn’t really complain. We were here, alone, in a town far enough away from Gatlington that it was unlikely we’d be recognized. I was here, with him. That was enough, ghosts or no.
After debating packing up our bags and going to another hotel, we decided to risk the ghosts and left the bed and breakfast for some food and entertainment. It didn’t take long to find, because even at the late hour of ten, there was something called a “midnight market” taking up an entire place within walking distance of where we were staying.
Food trucks and vendors had set up their wares along the single street stretch. Music thrummed, and mulled wine and spiked apple cider flowed freely. Rhys ordered me something to eat, and we sat on the curb, our noses pink from the chill but our fingers warmed from paper cups full of hot, spiced wine. We watched people walk by. I leaned my head on his shoulder and felt wholly, completely at peace for likely the first time in my life.
“Do you ever go somewhere new and envision packing up everything you own and moving there?” Rhys asked.
I looked up at him, feeling slightly sleepy from the wine and our shared warmth as we sat side by side, his arm around my shoulders.
“All the time,” I replied, looking back over the crowd. “My parents have a vacation home in Spain. I used to imagine running away and living in one of the villages there.”
