Chapter 7
PIPER
My head is pounding. The sun is bright and hot. I have to squint against the glare from the polished body of Nash’s truck as he retrieves my shoes from the footwell of the passenger seat.
“Here you go,” he says, shutting the door and rounding the truck.
I’ve hardly been able to feel anything other than a headache and nausea since I woke up this morning, but the sight of my heels dangling in Nash’s hand does a little something to me.
“Thanks,” I say, taking them from him. An awkward beat of silence stretches as we stay rooted to the spot. “Weird twelve hours, huh?”
A rare laugh pops from Nash. “Yeah, you could say so.”
Another long, awkward stretch. I should take out my phone and order a ride to Hallie’s place. Nash should get in his car and drive away. But for some reason, it’s like both of us feel hesitant to do so.
We woke up around the same time this morning, awkwardly got ready together without exchanging a word, left the key in the room, and then walked down the block to where Nash parked his truck last night.
His plush lips get thinner, like he’s pressing them together in thought as his eyes size me up.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay today?”
Now a laugh pops out of me, but it’s more ironic than the one I just drew from Nash.
“Not really.” I shrug. “But I’ll put one foot in front of the other. I’m going to go to my sister’s place today, so you don’t need to worry. I’ll ride out this hangover and then …”
My words trail off. And then, I’ll have to finally talk to Crew.
Nash nods. “Alright. You need a ride to your sister’s place?”
The idea of sliding into the passenger seat of Nash’s truck again is oddly appealing. Hearing the warm purr of his engine start up, stealing glances at his big hands gripping the steering wheel. I could hold reality at bay for just a tiny bit longer.
But I shake my head. “No, I can get an Uber. She’s in the city, so it’s not far.” A grin hooks on my mouth. “Besides, you need to get back to your animals. I can’t take any more of your time away from them.”
His eyes narrow, but his lips twitch, like I can remember them doing last night when he pulled up next to me and we exchanged verbal jabs. Not unlike the way we used to do when he’d march next door in college and tell me my parties were too loud.
“Well … good luck. So long.”
That country farewell in his low Texas drawl has a current of electricity running up my spine, but it strikes a melancholy chord at the same time.
“So long,” I reply, summoning a sad smile to my face.
After another too-long beat, Nash finally pulls away. I take out my phone and order a ride as his truck pulls away from the curb.
I watch the back of his truck as he drives away. When it turns and disappears down the road, I can’t hold back a frown.