Chapter 9 #2
She snorted. “I bought it years ago with all these big plans for traveling, but that never happened, so I’ve been living in it for the last six months instead.”
I glanced at her. “It’s still cool, but I’m surprised you never took it on the road. What happened to the travel plans?”
“Life.” She shrugged, but then her eyes drifted to the desert and she inhaled a breath so deep, her chest rose with it.
“I like it here in Quartz Pass. I know it’s a small town and that there’s a lot more out there, but after everything with Hunter, leaving felt too much like letting them take something else from me. ”
“Yeah,” I said after beat. “You said they live in Tucson now, right?”
“Yep, but their families are still here. Hunter hated that I didn’t want to leave this town and he probably loves that I’m stuck here now, with everyone knowing what they did, but I don’t see it that way.”
“Small towns do seem to be fun like that, but I think I get what you’re saying. You won’t let the fact that everyone knows or that they still have to come back to see their families run you out of town.”
“Exactly.” A tiny furrow appeared between her eyebrows as she glanced back up at me. “It kind of feels like leaving would make them think they won. At least, that’s what it felt like at first.”
“What about now?”
“Now I just don’t want to go anywhere.” She motioned at the house. “This place is mine. I can do whatever I want to it. I don’t need anyone’s approval or permission, and honestly, I’m having a fucking blast with it.”
I hooked my fingers into my pockets. “Well, let’s go see it, then. You did invite me here to show off what you’ve been doing, so we might as well get to it.”
She flashed me a surprisingly wicked smile. “I never said I wanted to show it off, but you’re not wrong. I am proud of what I’ve accomplished so far.”
“Show me.” I whistled as we walked in, genuinely surprised that she’d done all this herself.
While it was clear that there was a lot left to be done, with paint cans standing in random places on the floor, rollers resting in trays, and the floors covered in sheeting, I could also see spots where she’d already fixed the roof and the flooring, some new cabinetry in the kitchen, and new fittings in the bathrooms.
“This is incredible,” I said once we’d made it through the house and back to the porch overlooking the Airstream. “You’re right to be proud.”
“And you’ve earned yourself a beer for being so nice about it,” she joked, then disappeared into the trailer and came back a minute later with two beers already uncapped. “Welcome to my humble abode, I guess. All I’ve got right now are camping chairs, but it’s got a pretty good view of the sunset.”
I turned toward the mountains, and although I’d been here a while now, I still wasn’t quite used to how the sunsets here, while real, looked so damn fake.
Raquel and I sat down in mismatched camping chairs, drinking our beer while the desert turned shades of orange and gold that didn’t seem physically possible.
As the sun started dipping below the mountains, I stretched my legs out in front of me and looked toward the pass in the distance. “You know, if you showed this property to wealthy people in any city, they’d label it as a wellness retreat and charge nine thousand dollars a weekend.”
She snorted into her beer. “They’d die out here. The first scorpion would send them running for the hills.”
“You’re not wrong, but you could make good money before that news hit the press.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, tucking one leg underneath herself. “So, what about you? Don’t you have family somewhere wondering what happened to you?”
I took a slow sip of beer to buy myself a second, but not because I didn’t want to tell her. I just didn’t want to become somebody else in her eyes quite yet, and when people heard Westwood, things inevitably changed.
It was strange, but most conversations I’d had back home felt structured, everybody already knowing who I was before I even opened my mouth. People expected things from me based purely on my name, but out here, I got to just exist without any assumptions involved.
I didn’t want to ruin that here, especially not with her, but at the same time, I didn’t want to lie to her.
“Yeah, I do,” I said finally. “They’re not wondering, though. They know where I am and about the bike. My brother thinks I took it apart myself just as an excuse to stay on the road.”
She chuckled. “You have a brother?”
“I have five.”
“Wow.” Her eyes widened as she turned to face me. “There are six of you?”
“Seven. I also have a sister.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember you saying you had a little sister too,” she murmured, her head shaking. “I can’t imagine having that many siblings.”
“I try not to imagine it either,” I joked. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them to tiny little bits and pieces, but it can be overwhelming at times.”
“Just having Avery can be overwhelming at times,” she said. “It must be so much worse when there are so many of you.”
“Yeah, I spend most of my life being bossed around or fussed over. It just depends on the day. I do miss them, though. As annoying as they might be.”
She smiled. “To be fair, I spend most of my life being bossed around or fussed over too. I think that’s just a sibling thing. Are you all close?”
I shrugged. “As close as we can be. We talk often, if that’s what you mean, but they’re all busy. Work. Kids. Life.”
“God, you must have so many nieces and nephews if all your siblings have kids.”
“I do.” I chuckled as I thought about them all. “They’re the best, though. But hey, enough about me. I’ve heard people talking about this hiking trail through the canyon. Is it all it’s hyped up to be?”
“We’ve barely started talking about you, but okay. I’ll bite. The canyon trail is great. I can take you sometime, if you’d like. It’s an awesome view of the sunrise.”
“You’re on. Tomorrow?”
“Aren’t you eager? But okay. I never say no to that trail. Miley will probably want to come too, if that’s okay. She loves the canyon.”
“The more, the merrier.” I drained the last sip of my beer and reluctantly stood up. “I should head back before Frieda reports me missing. Thanks for the beer.”
“You’re welcome.” She set her bottle down and walked me to the truck, gray eyes glimmering with the copper of the sunset. “We’ll meet you at the trailhead at five-forty-ish? That should give us enough time before sunrise.”
“I’ll meet you there,” I promised, glancing back at her house. “If you ever need help with the renovations, I’m going to be around for a while. My offer still stands.”
She laughed, but at least she didn’t accuse me being sexist this time. “Don’t you have a life somewhere out there to get back to, or are you going to move with the wind on your motorcycle forever?”
I opened my mouth to tell her I did have to get back to my actual life at some point, but instead, I just smiled and climbed in the truck. “Well, the wind isn’t moving me anywhere on that motorcycle anytime soon, so just say the word if you need any help.”
I knew that hadn’t been an answer, but as I drove into the fading desert light with guilt about how tight-lipped I’d been about my family gnawing at my gut, I realized I didn’t know how to respond to that question honestly anymore.
I did have a life to get back to, sure, but I genuinely didn’t know if I was ever actually going back.