Chapter 27
Thea
Let’s drive and see what happens. What happens is I ask Pierce to pull over half a mile from the pier and I puke on the side of the road.
After begging him to drive at the normal speed limit, I proceed to cry while Pierce watches me uncomfortably from the driver’s seat.
It’s almost comical the way his gaze flits worriedly from the road to me, then back again.
“I’m fine, really,” I say, hiccupping and wiping at my red cheeks.
“Uh huh.”
“I am. I just…there are some mixed emotions from making it to the States and then almost dying again. That guy was scarier than the last two. I think he might have actually killed us if—” I freeze.
Horrified. “My bracelet is gone.” I whisper, pinching the spot it should be.
I want to go back and search for it, even though I know it’s out of the question.
“Hey…” Pierce places a hand on my thigh. It immediately settles the shaking in my veins, but it does nothing to quell the ache in my chest.
“It was supposed to be permanent. I wasn’t ready to lose it.” I gasp through another round of tears. “I wasn't ready.” We both know I’m not talking about the bracelet. But her.
Pierce rubs slow circles on my leg while I sob, the grief hitting me anew. He doesn’t stop driving but keeps his hold on me.
After a while he speaks. “Why don’t you do one of your breathing techniques to relax?”
I’m not sure how I can at the moment, but find myself nodding, desperate to try. “Music helps sometimes.”
“I'll sing something for you.”
My hand is halfway to the radio but drops like a rock onto my lap. It's such an unexpected and generous offering from the grump of a man that I turn fully in my seat, swiping at the tears. “You can sing? Like for real?”
“Close your eyes, and maybe you’ll find out.”
Goosebumps race over my skin at his deep, flirtatious tone and the pain begins to ebb.
“Oh, I’m doing it.” I rest into my seat, shifting a few times before I find a comfortable position, and close my eyes, forcing myself to box breathe while I wait.
It takes exactly one minute until I hear the first hum of a song.
“Hey, I thought you were going to sing.”
“Shh, this is the intro.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, then breathe in through my nose, long and slow, filling my lungs.
He starts over and… be still my heart.
Is he really about to sing Elvis Prelsey’s Can’t Help Falling in Love to me? My mom loved this song. I love this song. And I know without a doubt my mom would love Pierce. That thought buoys me through the turbulent waves of grief, and I picture them retreating, for now. The tide will return.
Pierce sings the first few words, a perfect, deep vibrato that reaches into my soul and tangles itself around my heart. Now I know how all of Elvis’s female fans must have felt. I’m the literal definition of swooning.
He croons how much he’s “falling in love with me”, and I think I might love him, too.
It’s totally just the song and the womanly swooning happening, but if this man sang to me every night of my life, I think I would be happy forever.
Two weeks ago, I was crying on my friend Andi’s shoulder, vowing to never date again. Now I’m falling for a man I barely know. I can’t move on this fast. It would be completely irresponsible, especially with everything else going on.
I’ve got less than eight hours until I’m home safe. Then, and only then, will I trust myself to make rational decisions.
Pierce hums the last notes, and I feel the loss of his soothing words deep in my chest.
“Did that help?” he asks.
Yes. And no. It calmed my anxiety but awoke a piece of my heart that probably stopped beating even while I dated Scott. When was the last time I felt so safe and cared for?
Before my parents’ crash.
I swallow the emotion clogging my throat. “It was wonderful, thank you. I won’t mind if you sing the whole drive.”
He runs a hand over his beard. “I haven’t sung for a while; sorry if it was rusty.”
“If that’s rusty, what did you think of my karaoke song the other night?” Oh my gosh. I bury my face in my hands. I was awful, and he just sat there and took it.
“It was a confident performance,” he says simply.
That’s a nice way of saying you sucked but at least you had fun. “Well, that’s embarrassing, and I will officially leave the singing to you.”
“I don’t anticipate much more singing in our future.” He chuckles.
“Really? Because I’m getting a totally different vibe. In fact, if the last three days were a movie, it would be a musical.”
He chuckles.
“Just one more song?” I ask, pouting my lips.
“Next time.”
“As in the next time you save me from danger?” I frown. “I’m torn. I really don’t want there to be a next time, but you’ve made the offer too tempting to ignore.”
“Maybe tomorrow, then.”
Is he promising me a tomorrow?
“I’m holding you to that. No skipping out on me before then.”
His smile tightens, and his gaze flicks to the rearview mirror. I know he’s leaving. The second he can, he’ll disappear. I can’t make him want to stay.
“Are we being followed?” I ask before I’m sure I want to know the answer.
“No.”
“Good.” I relax further into my seat, watching the street signs pass by. “Where are we going?”
“Los Angeles.”
“Can I pretend we are going to Disneyland to get churros?”
He settles into his seat. “Sure.”
“Maybe I’ll take you there for payment.”
“Let’s keep our options open.”