I huff, watching the incline to the road grow steeper and steeper. “Allright.”
“Are youstressed?”
“Nope. Not at all,” Ilie.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re beingdishonest?”
I shrug a nonchalant shoulder while focusing straight ahead at the winding road. The SUV flies past a bright-yellow sign, and I barely catch the warning of a steep drop off ahead. The road takes another sharp turn. My mouth goes dry, and I find myself gripping the overhead handle for dearlife.
“It’s a beautiful view,” Elijah says, pointing out thewindow.
“Can you put your hand back on the steering wheel? Please.” I’m now pressed into the seat like that’s going to keep this SUV from barreling over the edge of themountain.
He looks at me—which means his eyes are no longer on the road—and my pulse skyrockets. I go bug-eyed as I point at the windshield. “Eyes on the road!” I shout before placing my palm on his cheek and carefully turning his head. “We’re winding our way up a freaking mountain with signs about certaindeath.”
He chuckles “Certaindeath.”.
“Yes, certaindeath!”
“Collapsing bridges and hurricanes and certain death. What in the world goes on in that brain ofyours?”
“Some serious survivalinstincts.”
“I see.” He looks away from the road. Again. And I angrily point at thewindshield.
“Okay. Okay. Eyes on the road,” he says. “But at least look at the view once.” He reaches across the console and laces his fingers with mine. As much as that anxious bit of me is shouting that he needs to hold the wheel, I don’t want him to release myhand.
With a sigh, and against my better judgment, I look to the driver’s side. Pieces of the deep-red sky shine through the dark pines, and the white wisp of clouds glow against thesunset.
“You spend so much time afraid, you miss out on the beauty inlife.”
“I didn’t miss out on you,” Isay.
“But, if we’re being honest, it was I who refused to miss out on you. I was persistent in not letting you avoidme.”
“Whatever you need tothink.”
The rest of the trip up the mountainside, I’m lost in my own head, wondering what I’m going to do when I no longer havehim.
The headlights shine against the dense tree line just as the bumpy asphalt ends and the tires crunch over gravel. Elijah stops, shifts into park, and when he cuts the engine we’re plunged us intodarkness.
“Should I be concerned that you’ve brought me to some deserted mountaintop where we’re surrounded by woods?” Iask.
“What do your survival instincts tellyou?”
I smile even though I doubt he can see it. “That you’re too pretty to be a serial killer.” I throw my door open and the sticky heat immediately clings to my skin like wetstatic.
The interior light fades just as Elijah steps beside me with a frown “I was going to get that for you. You’re so difficultsometimes.”
“Thank you.” I bob my head before planting a swift kiss to hischeek.
I take a few steps into the grass before I notice the distinct buzz of cicadas swarming around me. That noise reminds me of being a little girl. Carefree and withoutworry.
Elijah takes my hand and leads me across the dark field. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t most people consider Ted Bundy an attractiveman?”
“Shhh.”
The hum of the insects grow quiet when we suddenly stop. Elijah moves behind me, nuzzling his face against the crook of my neck. “Look up,” he says, tipping my headback.
