Gently, I shook his shoulder. "Michael, wake up. We're stopping for some food,” I told him.
He rubbed at his eyes, blinking sleepily. "Where are we?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
"A diner," I said, pulling into the parking lot. "Thought we could use a break and get something to eat."
He nodded, glancing at the diner with a hint of apprehension.
"Do you want to eat inside?" I asked, already guessing his answer.
Michael hesitated, his gaze shifting from the brightly lit interior of the diner to the relative safety of the truck.
"I think I'd prefer to eat in the truck,” he admitted softly.
I nodded, understanding his reluctance. "That's fine. I'll go grab us something. Any preferences?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Anything's fine. I'm not picky,” he answered.
I gave him a reassuring smile before stepping out of the truck and heading into the diner. The warm, greasy smell of fried food hit me immediately, making my stomach growl.
I ordered a couple of burgers, fries, and drinks, paying the cashier before heading back to the truck with the bag of food.
Climbing back into the driver's seat, I handed Michael his share.
"Here you go. I hope you like burgers,” I told him.
He smiled, the first genuine smile I'd seen from him. "Thank you, Doyle."
We ate in companionable silence, the only sounds the crunching of fries and the occasional sip of soda.
I watched Michael out of the corner of my eye, noting how he savored each bite as if it were the best meal he'd ever had.
Given what he'd been through, it probably was. As we finished our food, the sky grew darker, stars beginning to appear above us. The peacefulness of the moment was a stark contrast to the chaos earlier.
"Feeling better?" I asked, crumpling up my empty burger wrapper.
Michael nodded. "Yeah, a lot better. Thank you for this,” he said.
"Anytime," I replied, starting the truck again. "Let's get back on the road. We're not too far from Sky Stead now."
Michael settled back into his seat, his eyelids drooping once more. I reached over and gently squeezed his hand.
"We'll be there soon," I promised.
After parking the truck in Zane’s driveway, I gently shook Michael awake. He rubbed at his eyes, looking around in confusion for a moment.
"We're here," I said softly, helping him out of the truck.
“Here?” Michael echoed, his voice still groggy.
“Sky Stead. This is my pack’s territory and my current home. I explained it earlier,” I said with a smile.
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Michael admitted, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
“You shouldn’t let your guard down that easily among strangers,” I told him, my tone a mix of concern and teasing.
“But…you don’t feel like a stranger,” Michael said softly.
You don’t feel like one either, I thought but said nothing yet. We entered Zane’s house, and I could hear the kids in the living room, arguing over who could pick the next show to watch.
