Chapter 28
SADIE
Watching Dusty Hollow disappear in the side mirror felt different this time. This isn’t a trip to see Sophie in Dallas or Emma in Austin. It isn’t an errand out of town either.
This is for me.
The last time I left Dusty Hollow for me was college.
Those two years at the University of Texas were like a fever dream.
My major was undecided, something that both scared and excited me.
I sat in classes wondering who I could be.
I made lists of possibilities—anxious to chart some kind of dazzling destination for everyone to remember Sadie Summers, Most Likely to Succeed.
Then my destination became a little less dazzling—and a lot dustier.
We’ve been on the road for about four hours when my stomach gurgles loudly.
Milo glances over at me with a side grin.
He hasn’t taken off his old ball cap. “I could use something to eat, too,” he says before he lightly pats the top of the steering wheel with his palm.
“And while I love this old truck, it guzzles gasoline like it’s starved for attention. I probably should get a new one.”
“No.” The word comes out fast and hard. Then I try to recover with, “I mean, if you want to.”
Milo’s grin widens. “But you don’t want me to.”
“It’s not my truck,” I reply.
“It’s kind of your truck.” His left brow quirks. “It has your dent and everything.”
I shake my head. “Oh, no. I told you I’d pay to have that fixed and you refused.”
His blue eyes glisten. “You would have removed the memory.”
I roll my eyes. “No, I would have simply repaired the dent.”
“I like the truck the way it is, memories intact. There are a lot of good memories in this truck, you know?” The words are teasing but soft, and my skin freckles with goosebumps at the thought of those memories.
We sit silent for a while, my mind remembering the way his lips felt on mine, firm but gentle, hungry and warm. We were kids, starved to know what it felt like to be wanted for more than what we could give.
I think, in that way, I’m still that girl.
I want to be that girl.
Milo turns his blinker on, the sound of it loud in the cab, pulling me out of my thoughts as he pulls off at an exit toward a gas station.
He drives up to a fuel pump, tossing me a twenty-dollar bill. “Can you grab me something?”
I toss the money back at him. “I’m paying for the food since you’re paying for the fuel.”
He shakes his head. “No. That’s not how this works.”
I open the door, shutting it quickly, before I reply with my arms crossed, “It’s exactly how this works.”
I back away quickly before Milo decides he can chase me down.
When I step back out of the convenience store, I pause and watch as Milo washes the windshield.
He’s intent on the chore, and I know that because he’s slightly biting down on his tongue.
It’s strange how ten years can change a boy to a man, muscles and wrinkles more defined, and yet .
. . some things really don’t change. Some things survive choices. Some things outlast time.
I slowly make my way to him. “Got your favorite.”
His eyebrows arch. “What’s that?”
“Roller taquitos,” I answer.
He laughs. “Back when I had a gut of steel.”
I lift the left side of my mouth in amusement. “Oh, so you’ve gone weak?”
“Not weak, just smarter,” he defends. “I treat my body a little better now.”
“Okay then . . .” I trail off, taking a taquito out of the wrapper. Then I slowly take a small bite, fluttering my eyelids before I begin making dramatic moans.
Milo quirks a brow at me as he puts the squeegee back into the water.
“I guess these are all mine,” I say, taking another bite.
Milo starts to walk around the truck. I hurry and open the passenger door, sliding onto the bench seat, but before I can close myself in, Milo’s hand grabs the door, keeping it open. “You said those were mine,” he says.
“Were being the key word,” I tease as I go to take another bite.
He swipes the taquito from my hand, all of it disappearing into his mouth with a smirk. He chews and then swallows.
I laugh. “Well?”
“Tastes like cheap gas station food,” he says, and then adds, “And it’s amazing.”
I think he’s going to shut the door and leave, but instead he leans in closer, the scent of aftershave brushing up against me as he very slowly takes my seatbelt and buckles it around me.
My heart feels heavy as it slams against my chest so hard, I’m sure he can hear it.
He lingers, his hand resting on the seat beside my thigh.
Then I feel something. I glance down to see him slipping the twenty into my pocket.
He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his smile against my ear.
Then he stands, grabbing the wrapper with the other taquitos, and shuts the door.
When he gets in on his side and starts up the engine, he turns to me. “Ready?” he asks.
I nod, the air in my lungs still stunned.
I’m ready, but for what? I guess I’m about to find out.