Where the Road Takes Me
Page 54

   He was watching me, eyes hooded, mouth partially open. I moved in to kiss him. Just once, before I made my way down his body. His neck first, sucking the way he’d done to me. Marking him. Making him mine. He slid his fingers out of me. I kissed lower, over his chest, as I slid down his body. My tongue slid to his stomach—his perfect stomach—paying special attention to the dips of his muscles. Then my hands moved and curled around the band of his boxers.
   “Chloe.” He covered my hands with his. “You don’t have to—”
   I didn’t listen. He didn’t continue protesting. Once my mouth was around him, he was silent. Apart from the moans toward the end and a single word—my name.
 
   We spent three more days in the hotel room, and we did exactly what we both wanted. We didn’t have sex, but we shared, we talked, we laughed. And at some point, we fell even more in love. We didn’t voice it. We didn’t have to. We both knew. But someday, real soon, I’d tell him.
   And for the first time in my life, I made a plan for the future.
   Blake Hunter—he was my future.
 
   Think a little less, live a little more.
   “Ha!” he said. “I like that one.”
   “Me, too.” I smiled.
   He picked up his blank magnet and scribbled on it. Today will live forever in the memory of tomorrow.
   “I love that. Where’s it from?” I looked up at him.
   He shrugged and kissed my forehead.
   “One of my mom’s books.”
   “You read her books?” I asked.
   “Every single one.”
 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
   Chloe
   He leaned against the car and pulled me into him, my back to his chest. “What’s it supposed to be?”
   “An egg, I think.”
   “What’s its purpose?”
   “A water tower? I’m not sure.”
   “Why do you always make me stop at these random things?” He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and pointed it to the egg-shaped tower. “Do you think they built it with this in mind? That people would pull over and want to spend longer looking at it?”
   I laughed. “You can’t stop looking at it, can you?”
   “No,” he said, astonishment clear in his voice. “And I have no idea why.”
 
   I stared at my breasts in the bathroom mirror.
   They looked the same.
   Only they weren’t.
   I had imagined this moment so many times. I even thought that I’d prepared myself for it. But things had changed so much over the past few weeks that I had almost let myself believe that it would never happen.
   But now, now it was happening.
   I wiped the tears off my cheeks and attempted to inhale a few calming breaths. Then I shut my eyes and waited as every single possible emotion passed through me. And then I settled on one. I didn’t want to feel anymore. “I think we should go out tonight,” I shouted to Blake on the other side of the door.
   “Yeah? You wanna go to dinner or something?”
   “No. I’m thinking I might want to lose myself for a little bit.”
   His footsteps got louder as he walked to the bathroom door. The handle moved but it didn’t push open. I’d made sure to lock it. “Open the door, Chloe.”
   I rushed to get dressed and opened the door. His eyebrows bunched as he looked down at me. “You want to go out and have a few beers?”
   “Yeah.” I feigned casualness in my tone. “Just for something different, you know?”
   “Okay,” he agreed. “We might get carded, so dress whore-ish.”
   I would have been offended by his suggestion if not for the fact that I’d already planned to.
   Blake
   We hadn’t been carded; they’d let us right in. Luckily, the bar was only a block away from the hotel, so we didn’t have to worry about getting back. We hadn’t had to worry much about anything since we’d hit the road.
   But at that moment—I was worried. After her fifth shot of tequila, I asked if she was okay.
   “Quit looking at me like that. I’m fine.”
   I hadn’t realized I was looking at her like anything.
   She brushed past me and headed toward the pool tables. “I’m taking a piss,” I told her. I went to kiss her quickly, but she pulled back and walked away. I tried to ignore it—the hurt from her actions and the concern over the way she’d been acting all night.
   When I walked out of the restroom, she was leaning against one of the pool tables, her shorter-than-short skirt barely covering her ass. She had a cue in one hand and a beer in the other, but that wasn’t what set off the rage in my head. It was the guy standing in front of her. Too close in front of her. I made my way over and stood next to her, hoping my stance and physical appearance would make him fuck off. His eyes moved from Chloe’s breasts to me, and a disgusted snarl appeared on his face. “This your boyfriend?” he asked her but kept his eyes on me.
   I sized him up and smirked. I could take him. Easy.
   I leaned back and waited for her words of rejection so this asshole would get out of her face, but her dismissal never came.
   “He’s whatever,” she said.
   My heart stopped. Or picked up pace. I couldn’t tell.
   When I turned to her, she was looking down at the floor, her head bent and eyelids heavy from the alcohol.
   “Chloe!” I snapped. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”
   “Fuck off, Hunter. You met me a few months ago, and you think you know me? Seriously, fuck off. You don’t know shit. I’m not some fucking damsel that needs saving. You think you can stick around and that’ll save me, you’re wrong.”
   I got that she was drunk. Beyond drunk. But even when she had been loaded at Will’s party, she hadn’t talked to me like this. A ball formed in the pit of my stomach, and I stood straighter, staring at her, trying to work out what the fuck I should do.
   Then the asshole stepped forward. “You wanna get out of here?” he asked her.
   And I lost it.
   I’d never been this pissed before.
   Without even thinking, I grabbed her arm—rougher than I should have—and dragged her out of the bar.
   I didn’t want to say something I’d regret, so I tried to compose myself before asking, “What’s wrong, Chloe?”