Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
REESE
The strange man follows me all the way underground to the bus concourse, still talking nonstop.
In fact, I’m not sure how he’s even alive since he hasn’t taken a breath in the last eight minutes.
He appears harmless enough, and based off the length of his beard and overpacked rucksack, like someone who’s craving human interaction after months of roughing it in the great outdoors.
Even with all the subtle cues I’ve given him, he still drones on about his latest hike at Clear Creek Trail. Doesn’t he see I’m in the middle of a crisis? This is not the time for idle chitchat.
Tristen and I had some sort of moment outside, throwing me off-kilter.
My mind continues to spiral, overwhelmed with unexpected emotions.
His face invades my thoughts against my will.
The man has no right to be this handsome.
Like the Brawny man jumped off the paper towel packaging and ditched the plaid for black t-shirts that strained over his muscular chest. Thick black shaggy hair that is always mussed to perfection and soft enough that my fingers itch to run a hand through it.
Not that I would admit that last part to anyone.
I press a hand over my chest, hoping to calm my fluttering heart. My precious self-control weakens when he is around—and apparently now when I think about him too. That’s a new development.
It’s confusing why I would feel this way about him at all.
He’s Tristen, someone that’s been a staple in my life since I was a child.
Yet, over time my attraction to him has grown to the point I can’t ignore it.
The way he walks into the room and I know he’s there.
Or how I can sense when he’s looking at me like some kind of weird sixth sense.
Even though it drives me crazy when he hovers, I know he’d do anything to keep me safe.
He’s witty, thoughtful, and accepts me with all my broken pieces.
When he looks at me, it’s not with pity like most people in Rocosa.
He challenges me to do better because he knows I can.
That’s the frightening part . . . knowing that eventually I’ll disappoint him just like everyone else.
So, I’ve trained myself to stuff those mushy feelings deep down inside me like Pandora’s box and lock it up tight.
But when he dropped me off outside, for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was more than one sided, like Tristen had felt something too. And Pandora’s box rattled at the very thought, desperate to spring open.
No. I’m sure I must have imagined it.
I pick apart each gesture, expression, and phrase.
His eyes held mine, more blue than gray, and glittering in the streetlights.
It was like we had a physical string tying us together, one neither of us could step away from.
Never has anything like that happened between us.
The way his eyes kept dipping to my mouth, lingering on them until warmth spread through me, leaving me almost breathless.
I wanted him to reach out and touch me, not in his usual gruff way, but gentle like I was something to be treasured.
Goodness. Where are these thoughts coming from? Treasured by Tristen? That sounds like a new shop on Main Street, not an emotional revelation.
I tug my suitcase along with extra force, ignoring the droning voice of the stranger next to me as he describes the benefits of using trekking poles.
I scan for gate B3, surprised the underground bus terminal is similar to TV depictions of airport terminals.
There’s even a departure and arrival screen on the wall, flashing between the gates and times.
Lucky for me, my bus seems to be running thirty minutes behind schedule.
“Do you like hiking?” The stranger’s question pierces like a pin through my thoughts.
“I’ve gone a few times.”
“My sister used to hike with me—” He rambles on with the new topic.
I groan, silently beating myself up. Why did I say anything?
When Tristen calls I immediately answer and point to my phone as an excuse to slip away. The man doesn’t take the hint when I turn around, waiting by my side.
“Where are you?” Tristen demands through heaving pants.
“Um, hello to you too. Miss me already?”
“Sure. Now answer the question. Where are you?” he repeats, his words choppy.
“Why are you out of breath?”
I plug my other ear, blocking the voice of the man still complaining about his sister.
“Reese. This is not the time for twenty questions,” Tristen growls through the speaker.
“Where do you think I am? I’m at the bus station you dropped me off at less than ten minutes ago. There’s a delay, so we aren’t leaving for another thirty minutes.”
“Good.”
“Why good? Why are you being cryptic?”
“Ahh, bus station is underground.” His footsteps tap quickly, hollow sounding. “No wonder I couldn’t find it.”
I cup my hand around the phone. “Tristen Davis. No. You were supposed to go home. Do not come down here.”
“Too late.”
“You’re worse than Des.”
“Perhaps. But I couldn’t—is that guy still bothering you?”
“He’s harmless. You see that I’m alive and well. Go home.”
“I can’t,” he says and hangs up.
“Tristen,” I hiss at my home screen. Just when I thought we were making progress, he goes behind my back and follows me anyway. Always my babysitter. He must think I’m a colossal screw up if I can’t even take a bus by myself.
“My sister is due any day now. I had hoped to hike around more of Colorado, but I guess it’s back to Texas,” the stranger says, staring at the ceiling.
I blink at him, my brain pivoting from one conversation to the other.
“You’ll be an uncle. That’s exciting,” I say distractedly as I scan the area for Tristen’s dark head of hair.
“It is. But I actually have five nieces. My sister’s hoping it’s a boy this time.”
I spin to face him, my jaw slack. “Six kids?”
“Oh yeah, she wants a baseball team.”
“That’s cra—”
“Hey, Reese,” Tristen pants, appearing out of nowhere to slide an arm around my shoulders. “Sorry I’m late.”
I shoot him a scathing glare. He can’t just storm into my life whenever he wants and expect me to dance to his tune.
“Hi, I’m Danny,” the man interrupts and lifts a hand in a quick wave at Tristen.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Tristen.”
“My brother,” I add, ignoring the painful squeeze of his arm at the suggestion.
“I’m not your brother,” he mutters under his breath.
I turn and place a hand on his chest, his whole body stiffening. “Just because you were adopted doesn’t mean we don’t accept you.”
His whole face crumbles into his normal look of irritation. “You’re an absolute pain.”
“If you’re not having a good time, you could always leave.” I bat my eyelashes, but he’s been immune to all my tactics since high school.
“I have a brother too,” Danny says. “He’s a vegan.”
“Ah, cool.” Tristen nods a few times, not sure what to do when the man starts explaining why he could never give up meat.
“Excuse us one moment, Danny.” I grab Tristen’s arm and drag him off to the side for privacy and trip over his duffle. With fast reflexes, he snags my upper arm, steadying me on my feet. My vision narrows in on the bag. “Why is that here?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m going with you.”
My hands ball into fists at my sides, and my words turn to dry dust in my mouth. Red hot anger boils through me at the breech of trust.
Tristen’s eyes widen, and he lifts up his hands in surrender. “Before you attack me, remember we are in a public place.”
Unfortunately . . . he’s right.
Passengers clump by the glass door. Those that aren’t doomscrolling on their phones are sneaking peeks at me. Though the bus hasn’t arrived, the beginnings of a line forms.
I inhale a breath and recall the AA serenity prayer in my head. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. I tack on, And don’t let me kill Tristen, at the end for his safety.
Then I exhale a calming breath, feeling slightly less murderous.
My old AA sponsor recommended I remove myself from overstimulating situations, so I apply the same concept here.
High emotions tend to be a trigger, and I don’t want to be stuck on the bus with a monster craving and Tristen helicoptering over me.
Grabbing my suitcase, I move to the end of the line and spot Danny scampering off with a concerned glance in my direction.
He joins another group of passengers closer to the front.
Great. Now I’m the weirdo on the bus.
A wave of awareness washes over me as a tingling prickle crawls up my spine. I know without turning around that Tristen moved behind me in line.
“Don’t run away,” he whispers over my shoulder.
“Can we not do this right now in front of everyone? Wait until we are on the bus.”
His jaw ticks, and I hold up a hand to cut him off before he interrupts.
“Please. Just let me cool down and wrap my head around it.”
“It’s a long ride. I can wait.”
A large navy bus with a Greyhound logo eases into the spot outside with a squeal of the brakes. The door swings wide, and a tall, slender man in rumpled clothes dashes down the steps. He opens the main door and whistles for everyone’s attention.
“Sorry for the delay. For those of you traveling to Dallas, we will be leaving immediately. Please gather all your belongings and form a single file line. Boarding will move faster if you have the app open with your ticket.”
The wait isn’t too long before the driver scans our phones and we head out the glass door, the area reeking of exhaust. We leave our luggage in the loading area next to the bus and climb on board. The back seats are already filled, and I pass Danny on my way to an open seat in the middle section.
I scoot all the way over to the window seat and tuck my backpack by my feet.
“Want me to put your stuff up here?” Tristen asks.
“I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.”