“Youmightwannaburn everything in your room when you getback. Just to be safe.”
“Yeah,probably,” I laughed, tipping my chin to gaze at my feet. I needed to look awayfrom him and the banter and these new feelings that weren’t dissipating.
“So,which room you want?”
“Whichwouldyoufeel more comfortable in?”
“Molls,I’m not picky, you know that. I’ll sleep on the damn floor if I have to.”
“Okay,fine.” I nodded, and said, “I’ll take the room with the smaller bed. You’d bemore comfortable in the bigger one, anyway.”
“Youjust don’twannathink about Jondoin’the deed in there.”
Ismirked coyly. “Maybe.”
Anew type of silence settled between us as his gaze dropped to the floor and minediverted, to stare at the wall, a doorknob, the light switch—anything thatwasn’t his forearms and the way they tensed every time he made a fist.
God, what is happening?
“So,uh, I’mgonnashower. Unless you wanted to go first.”
Not helping.“You’ll probably be quicker,” I replied hurriedly, swallowing at the lump in mythroat.
“Iwashopin’ you’d say that,” he laughed, crouching tothe floor to unzip his backpack. As he fished out his toothbrush, he continued,“I mean,assumin’ you still take three hours just towash your damn hair.”
“Twoand a half, thank you very much,” I retorted with sarcasm, cocking my hip andflipping the ends of my hair. “Some of us have to work hard to be thisbeautiful.”
Hescoffed, tipping his face downward to focus on the bag. “I think we both knowyou’d be beautiful regardless.”
Itwas damn near flirtatious, the exchange between us, and I frantically wonderedif things had been this way for weeks. Was this new? Was this anythingat all?
Chadlooked up, tipping his head back to peer at me from under his baseball cap.“You okay?”
“Yeah,”I hurriedly replied. “I think I’m stillkindajittery.”
Henodded understandably. “Whydonchajust go to bed?”
“Idowannashower before I sleep …”
“Then,you go first,” he insisted. “Or I can wake you up early, ifya’dlike, so you can shower beforehittin’ the road.”
Ishook my head, laughing lightly. “I think I can wake myself up.”
“Thatearly?”
“Ithink I’m capable, yes.”
“Then,how ‘bout this? You shower tonight before bed, and tomorrowmornin’,you wake up early and go out for a run with me.”
Itdawned on me then that this would become a new normal for the next severalmonths. Him and me, doing everything together. We’d be sharing a home onwheels. We’d be working out together. We’d be orchestrating showers and mealsand sleeping habits—all around each other. God, the last time we lived likethis was a camping trip we took with our parents many years ago, and even thatwas only for a week. This would bemonths.
Itwas comforting, in a way. And then, it was also a little scary. A littledangerous.
“Soundsgood,” I nodded, turning away with my backpack to take that shower. And to putsome distance between us.
What the hell is happening?
14
