27. Amelia
Chapter 27
Amelia
W hen I open my eyes, the weight of today settles over me, and I remember that my little road trip for one is now a trip for two. It's not a bad thing. Not entirely. Because seeing him last night, really seeing him for the first time in days, made me realize just how much empty space he leaves behind when he's gone.
This past week has been hell. I know he's been staying out late until he's sure I'm in bed and disappearing into his room before I get home from work. But it's only made me realize how much I hate this space between us. I hate that we fought. Hate that we both leaned into our worst instincts instead of trying to fix what was wrong. Looking back now, I can't even pinpoint how we managed to go full asshole mode instead of actually talking like the adults we're supposed to be. But here we are, dancing around each other like we're strangers sharing the same air.
But the truth is, we can't keep this up, and I already know we're not getting through this weekend without facing the storm we've both been avoiding. It's sitting there, right between us, waiting for the right—or wrong—moment to crack us both wide open. With hours on the road ahead of us and a weekend of family dynamics to survive, there's no avoiding it. Not this time.
Once I'm up and dressed in a pair of sweats and a tank—because comfort is key for a long drive—I head to the kitchen. Coffee first. Breakfast can wait until we're on the road.
I'm perched at the island, mindlessly scrolling through my phone while waiting for caffeine to jumpstart my brain, when I hear his door open.
I don't look up right away, but his scent finds me first. That clean, sharp bite of his shower gel hits me, followed by the subtle woodsy warmth of his cologne.
Have you ever met a guy who smells so damn good that you're prepared to let him ruin your life? Yeah, that's how Tobias smells—like sex, temptation, and a desire to be put on all fours and have your spine straightened out while saying fuck the consequences.
When I finally force my eyes up, he's standing there, tugging a black hoodie over his head, and the stretch of fabric over his shoulders is enough to make me hate myself for looking. I lift my coffee cup, taking a small sip to disguise the heat creeping up my neck, pretending to be engrossed in whatever reel is on my phone.
I thought I'd have hours to vent my issues to Allison and get it all off my chest. But nope. Instead, I get hours trapped in a metal box with the actual issue.
"Morning, Firefly. You sleep okay?" Tobias asks, his voice soft, doing everything he can to smooth over the jagged edges between us.
I know him too well not to see it—he needs us to be okay, even if we're barely holding it together.
"I did, thanks."
He pours himself a cup of coffee and sits across from me, cradling his mug between his palms.
"Were you serious about driving up with me today?"
"Yeah." He watches me over the rim of his mug. "That okay?"
"Sure, it'll give me someone to annoy."
"You are pretty fucking annoying," he fires back, his crooked grin tugging at the corners of his mouth—the one that almost makes me believe we could rewind time, go back to before we turned "us" into whatever the hell this is.
I have my playlist blaring loud enough to drown out everything else in the car—mostly my thoughts. It's working until Taylor Swift's "Fortnight" comes on, and I see Tobias's head snap toward me out of the corner of my eye.
"Really?"
"If you don't like it, you could've gotten on a plane."
"I would've booked a flight, but I left it too late."
"I don't understand why you're bitching when deep down you know you're a Swiftie."
He flips me off, face perfectly blank. "She has one song I like. One."
"Which one?"
"How the hell should I know? I just know I like it."
"Okay, is it slow or fast?"
"Slow. And there's a guy singing in it."
I grab my phone from the cupholder and pass it to him. "Search up 'Exile.'"
His fingers move across the screen, and his lips curve into a small smile when those first piano notes float through the speakers.
"This is good," he admits, settling into the sound. "But if you tell anyone, I'm telling everyone we know about the incident with your vibrator."
I whip my head between him and the road, my jaw dropping as my face heats. "You wouldn't dare."
"Wanna test me?" he asks, that infuriating grin plastered across his face.
He's the fucking devil.
I glare at him, wishing I had something heavy to throw at his head. "Besides," he adds, his tone so casual it makes me want to scream, "you shouldn't be embarrassed by that anyway. It's natural."
"Good. Great. You done?" I snap, wishing I could evaporate on the spot and avoid spending another second trapped in a car with this insufferable asshole.
He laughs, crossing his arms over his chest as his head falls back against the seat. "Yeah. For now."
I crank the volume until it drowns everything out—including his laughter, which I don't need to hear to know is still there.
Another hour passes, and we finally stop at a gas station because Tobias has been complaining about being hungry for what feels like forever.
"What do you want?" I ask as he heads toward the bathroom.
"I'll have whatever you're having, but can you grab me some water?"
"Sure," I reply, brushing past him and walking toward the entrance.
The bell jingles, and I'm hit with the faint, bitter smell of burnt coffee. I wander through the aisles, scanning the options, and toss four bags of chips into my basket, then a few candy bars. Two bottles of water follow, along with some random snacks that I don't even really want but feel compelled to grab for Tobias because God forbid he whines the entire ride.
As I approach the counter, I glance up and meet the brown eyes of the guy standing behind it. He must be in his mid-twenties, with dark curls peeking out from under a backward cap. He's undeniably handsome in that approachable boy-next-door way.
"Long trip?" He eyes the mountain of snacks I've dumped on the counter.
"Yeah," I reply with a small smile. "Heading to Pennsylvania."
"No wonder you bought half the stock," he says as he starts scanning the items.
Before I can respond, the bell above the door chimes again. I don't need to look. I can already feel the shift in the air—that gravitational pull I've never figured out how to ignore.
"Is it a one-way trip or just a visit?"
"Just a quick visit. I'll be driving back in a few days."
"I'll make sure to stock everything back up in case you stop off again," he says, the grin on his face lingering just a little too long.
I barely manage to say thanks before Tobias moves in. His arm drapes over my shoulder with the kind of ease that screams possessiveness. His fingers brush the bare skin of my arm, light enough to send goosebumps racing up and down my body, and I can only hope he's too focused on playing the overprotective dickbag to notice.
"You got my favorites, Firefly."I look up, and Tobias is peering down at me with that fucking grin on his face—the one that makes me want to slap him just as much as I want to grab him by the hoodie and kiss him until neither of us can breathe.
"I got my favorites," I fire back, holding his gaze. "They just happen to be the same as yours."
He doesn't respond right away. He doesn't even need to. His eyes convey the message loud and clear, daring me with that silent challenge.
You don't wanna play along, Firefly. You want this guy to think you're interested?
I narrow my eyes, tilt my head slightly, and refuse to back down.
Yeah, motherfucker, maybe I do.
"Thanks…?" I finally break the stare-off and turn to face the poor guy serving us.
"Kyle."
"Thanks, Kyle. Maybe I'll see you on the way back through." I shrug out of Tobias's grasp, brushing past him deliberately. "He's paying, by the way," I call over my shoulder, not bothering to look back. "I'll see you at the car."
Minutes later, Tobias finally emerges, strolling toward the car like he's got all the time in the world. He slides into the driver's seat, adjusts the mirrors, and doesn't say a word as he takes his place behind the wheel.
"Did you figure out who had the bigger dick while I was gone?"
He erupts into laughter, placing his large, tattooed hands on the steering wheel before facing me and releasing a breathy sigh as he composes himself.
"Baby, it will always be me."
With that same effortless confidence that makes him infuriatingly attractive, he starts the car, palm flat against the wheel as he steers us back onto the road. He drives like he owns not just the car but the entire highway, and I turn my head toward the window, determined not to let him see how he gets to me.
"Can you check your phone? See what time it says we'll arrive?"
I dig my phone out of the side door, swiping at the screen before answering, "One fifty a.m. That's what it says."
We left later than planned, and traffic was a nightmare. I got stuck in it for a few hours after an accident slowed everything to a crawl, and Tobias stopped at least twice to light up a cigarette. It's thrown us completely off schedule, and now we're facing the reality that we're not making it by midnight.
"Are you planning on driving through the night? Because I'm not."
"It's not ideal," I reply, trying to mask my frustration.
"You want to stop somewhere and stay the night? Get a decent sleep and pick back up in the morning."
I groan, leaning my head back against the seat. It's not what I wanted—not even close.
"Yeah, makes sense."
"I'll drive for another couple of hours, and then we'll find somewhere."
I don't argue. I can't. The exhaustion is starting to catch up with me, and at some point, I drift off, lulled by the hum of the car.
When I wake, my head knocks against the window, and the sky above has shifted from twilight blue to midnight black. As I stretch, my joints crack in protest, working out the kinks from being folded up for too long.
As I blink the sleep from my eyes, my gaze lands on Tobias. He's leaning against the driver's side window, one arm propped up, his head resting heavily in his hand. His other hand sits loose on the steering wheel while his fingers drum against it. The sight of him like this—focused but tired, bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights—does something to me I can't explain.
"How long was I out?" The words scratch out of my throat, husky with sleep.
"Over an hour." He glances at me briefly, concern flickering in his eyes. "You okay?"
"I think my neck's broken." I roll my shoulders with a wince that's only half dramatic. "You look tired."
"Yeah, I am a little," he admits, and I hear the weariness in his voice. "I saw a sign for somewhere about ten minutes out. If you're good with stopping, we can crash there for the night."
"Of course," I say, running a hand through my tangled hair, trying to feel somewhat human again.
Ten minutes later, we pull up to a motel that isn't half bad compared to others we've passed. It's not luxury by any stretch, but at least it's not creepy.
We step out of the car, and Tobias gestures for me to go ahead, his hand lightly brushing my lower back as I pass him.
Inside, a little old man stands behind the counter. He's about my height, maybe in his seventies, with wiry white hair that looks like it's been combed with a fork. His thick glasses magnify kind, crinkly eyes, and the warm smile on his face feels like it belongs on a holiday card.
"Well, hello there," he greets us. "Are you looking for a room?"
"Yeah, please. Two—I mean," I stumble, feeling Tobias sidle up beside me, his arm brushing against mine.
The older man's eyes glance between us, and his smile widens knowingly. "Uh-oh. You two had a disagreement? Been stuck in the car too long?"
"About ten hours now," Tobias answers smoothly, like he's indulging the man in a private joke.
Clive—according to his name badge—lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. "That'll do it," he says, his eyes wide behind his glasses. He types something into the ancient computer in front of him, squinting at the screen. Then, his expression falls. "Oh, I'm so sorry, but we only have one room left."
"Seriously?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.
"'Fraid so," Clive says, nodding gravely. "Had you been here half an hour sooner, we would've had two. But you're stuck with the one." His apologetic smile does nothing to ease the panic climbing up my throat.
I glance up at Tobias, not wanting to get back in that car for another second, but the idea of sharing a room with him feels like walking straight into a fire I lit myself.
"What do you want to do?" I ask, my voice quieter now, hoping he has a better solution.
"We'll take it," he says without hesitation, sliding his card across the counter like he hasn't just signed us up for the world's most complicated sleepover.