Where the Road Takes Me (21 page)

“She’s your unexpectedly phenomenal?” Mom giggled. “Holy shit. I need to put that in my next book.” Frantic typing. “Okay, kids. Keep in touch. Love you both.” Then she hung up.

“What the hell just happened?” Chloe laughed.

I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

She picked up her coffee and handed me mine, but before I could take a sip, my phone chimed.

Myrtle Beach Chrysler-Jeep dealership. Grand Cherokee. Chloe gets to pick the color. Happy Graduation. I love you. Mom.

Mom wasn’t the only one who called. Dad did, too, over twenty times. We stopped by a store and picked up a new SIM card for my phone. I texted Josh and Mom my new number. I also told Mom to give Josh my old car; his was unreliable at best.

Chloe found a homeless shelter nearby and gave them her car.

Mom had handled all the financing by phone, so by the time we got to the dealership, all I had to do was sign for ownership, and Chloe had to pick a color.

She chose red.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Chloe

I woke the next morning to an empty bed. When I sat up to look around the room, all his stuff was still there. Relief washed through me. Then I saw it. Red ink on torn white paper, sitting on his pillow.

Back soon. Gone for a run.

P.S. You’re beautiful when you’re sleeping. Just thought you should know that—in case nobody else ever gets a chance to tell you.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and read the note over and over.
In case nobody else ever gets a chance to tell you.
I wondered for a moment what he meant—but it was only a moment before reality kicked in. The best kind of reality. Blake was there—with me. And we had until August 19 to make it count.

I got up, used the bathroom, and brushed my teeth, then climbed back into bed and waited for him to return. I had to wait only a few minutes before I heard him walk over to the side of the bed and stand over me.

“Like the dead,” he whispered and laughed to himself.

I shot up and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him down with me.

“Jesus Christ, Chloe, you scared the shit—”

I pressed my lips to his. Rushed and frantic at first, but then the kiss slowed enough so that he could position himself on top of me and between my legs. He tasted salty from the sheen of sweat that covered his face and his entire body. He was shirtless again. And the picture of him in my mind made my hips jerk up and into him.

He moaned but pulled back quickly. “Shit,” he spat out, letting his head fall onto my shoulder. “I need to shower.” He kissed me once. “A cold one.”

And then he was gone. I waited for him to get in the bathroom before kicking my legs wildly, like a teenager who had just made out with a boy she’d been crushing on forever. Because that was what I was. A teenager, crushing on a boy for the very first time in her life.

I got out of bed, made us coffee, and waited out on the balcony for him. When he came out, he just stood in front of me. “You’re in my seat,” he said. My eyebrows bunched, but I got up anyway. He sat down, but before I could move to another seat, his arm curled around me and brought me down onto his lap. “I think every room we get should have a balcony.”

“Okay.” I picked up my coffee and used it to hide my smile.

He kissed my neck a few times, and his lips remained there when he spoke. “Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

He pulled back and swiveled my legs so I was sideways on his lap. “I think that—I mean, I want to—” He cursed under his breath before continuing, “I want to take things slow with you. With
us.
We only have a couple months, and I want to remember all of it. I don’t just want to have sex with you and become another forgettable guy.”

I opened my mouth to interrupt, but he cut me off.

“I know,” he said. “I know that’s not what I am, but I don’t want to risk it. And I’m scared that if we have sex, then that’s the only thing we’ll remember from this time we have together, that’s all this adventure will become—sex. Because I’m positive that once I have you in that way, then I’ll need to have you always. And that’s just not good enough for me. It’s not good enough for
us.
”

“Okay,” I said, because a part of me agreed with him, and another part of me wondered what the hell I’d done that made me deserve him.

Sometimes the wrong path can lead us to the right road. And toward the greatest thing that will ever happen to us.

We stood in front of the fridge and stared at my handwritten quote on the magnet I’d just placed there. I hoped he understood what I meant by it. I hoped he knew that I was talking about him. That
he
was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

“Why are you leaving it here?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe one day someone will book this room, see that message, and those words might be exactly what they need to see. Maybe they’ll smile after reading it. Maybe a smile is all they’ll need to keep them going.”

“You got another one?”

I reached into my bag and pulled out a blank magnet and a red pen. He smiled when he took it from my hands. Then he leaned on the counter, wrote on the magnet, and stuck it right next to mine.

When life gives you melons, you might be dyslexic.

“It’s a giant peach,” he said.

I leaned back against the car and looked at the roadside water-tower attraction. “I know, how cool is it?”

“I don’t think
cool
is the right word.” He tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know that there is a word to describe it.”

“
I
think it’s cool.”

“
I
think it’s odd that I can’t stop staring at it.”

I laughed. “I think you secretly think it’s cool.”

“I think the word
cool
is outdated.”

I turned my back on the giant peach and stood in front of him. “I think
you’re
outdated.”

He peered down at me from under the brim of his Duke cap. “I’ll outdate you.” He pulled my shirt until I was flush against him. Then he lowered his head toward mine.

My eyes shut.

I waited for his lips to touch mine.

But they never did.

I opened my eyes.

He was gazing over my head. “I can’t stop staring at the giant peach.”

When we had left the hotel that morning, he’d asked if he could negotiate some terms with me. I’d told him that it was
our
trip, not just mine, and negotiations weren’t needed. He had three requests: (1) an endless supply of lollipops, (2) we drive for only two hours at a time before stopping, and (3) we drive no more than six hours a day.

We found somewhere to stay a few hours away. I didn’t exactly know where we were, and it didn’t really matter. Where he was—that was where I wanted to be.

The first thing he did when we walked into the room was look for the balcony doors. He slid them open and stepped outside. I made us coffee and followed after him. His legs were already kicked out, and he was waiting for me take my spot on his lap. He smiled sadly when I did.

“Are you okay, Blake?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You always get sad at the end of the day.”

“I’m that obvious, huh?”

I turned to face him. “Is something wrong? Are you homesick?”

He laughed. “No. I’m not homesick. It’s just another day over. That’s all. I hate it—counting them down and knowing our days are limited.”

“I know.” I forced a smile. “So what do we do?”

“Nothing,” he sighed. “I’m just being grumpy.” He positioned me so I sat sideways on him. “And this is gonna sound really stupid, but I miss you.”

I chuckled. “You miss me? How? I’m with you all the time.”

“I know! I told you it would sound dumb, but I do miss you. We’re always in the car or eating somewhere. And I feel like I’m sharing you with The Road
,
and I just want you all to myself, and it makes me feel selfish because this was your thing.” His words were rushed. “But I miss you. I just want to talk to you, and only you, like we did all the times at your mom’s lake. Or on your swing seat.” He sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry. It’s stupid that I feel like this.”

“It’s not stupid.” And it wasn’t. I felt the same way, but I didn’t know how to voice it. Blake—he always had the words. “We can stay here for a few days. It’s nice and quiet. We don’t have to do anything. Just lock ourselves away from the rest of the world.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Maybe that wasn’t what he’d meant.

“I mean—if you want to,” I added. “I’d like that, just you and me. But it’s cool if you—”

“That sounds perfect, Chloe.” He smiled. “More than perfect.”

The entire night he’d been sitting there shirtless, watching whatever the hell movie had been playing. I’d tried not to look at him. To ogle him. To devour him.

I kept tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable with the throbbing ache between my legs. I wanted him. And I knew he wanted me. The endless kissing, touching, feeling—it wasn’t enough anymore. Not for me.

He pulled back from our kiss, his lips red and raw. “We need to slow down, I don’t want to sleep with you yet. But if we keep going, I’m going to lose control. You need to stop me before it gets too far.” His eyes were dark. Darker than I’d ever seen them. “Please, Chloe.”

It took a moment before I worked out what he was asking. I nodded once and wrapped my legs tighter around his waist.

“Okay.”

And if he did lose control—it didn’t show. Every move, every touch, every taste felt calculated. His hands moved up my sides, taking my shirt with it. We broke away from the kiss only long enough for him to lift the top over my head. But when we continued, something in him had switched. No longer slow and gentle, his kisses became desperate. Passionate. Perfect.
He
was perfect.

His hand slid up my back and settled on my bra, where it stilled—asking for approval, I guessed. I moaned into his mouth and pulled myself closer with my hands on his shoulders. Effortlessly, he unclasped the bra, slowly sliding it down my arms. I pulled back to let it fall, but his grip on my waist kept me there.

He bit his lip, his eyes moving from one breast to another. “Beautiful,” he whispered before kissing me again.

It took only seconds before we were there once more, teetering on the edge of whatever control we had left. His thumb brushed against my nipple; the other one laced and fisted in my hair. He yanked hard but not hard enough that it hurt.

My head tilted back so his mouth could move to my neck. I was grinding my hips, rubbing my heat where I wanted him the most. His hips rose, meeting me there. I was so wet, so close.

His mouth moved lower and lower, onto my collarbone, where his lips paused to suck. Hard.
And I loved it.
And then he moved. Lower again. I pushed my chest out. Ready. Waiting. I
needed
him where he
wanted
to be. The warmth of his mouth on my nipple set me off. I ground harder into him. Faster. We groaned simultaneously. And I didn’t even know when or how they got there, but his fingers brushed against my sex, over my panties, rubbing lightly.