When I get to the arcade, I go straight back to the air hockey table we used, but Julie’s phone isn’t there. Heading to the bar, I get the bartender’s attention quickly.
“What can I get you?” he asks.
“Did anyone find a phone by the air hockey tables? Purple case?”
“It’s your lucky day.” He reaches under the bar and pulls out Julie’s phone, handing it to me.
“Thanks, man.” I take the phone from him and dig a twenty out of my pocket, dropping it in the tip jar. “Have a good night.”
He salutes me. “You bet.”
As I leave the arcade, the phone vibrates in my hand and, out of habit, I look at the pop-up notification on the screen.
Molly
Jules, it’s not a friends thing and everyone knows it. Have all the sex with him, Jules. Then tell me all about it. We’ll do a virtual sexy breakfast story. With donuts.
I snort out a laugh, not sure what a sexy breakfast story is and why donuts are involved, but glad that Julie is staying in touch with her friends while she’s away since I know they mean a lot to her. And I’m even happier that they all seem to be on my side. Or, at least Molly is, and she seems like a woman who could convince anyone of anything.
When I get back to the hotel, I slip into Julie’s room using her key since I’m betting she shoved that lock back onto the adjoining door as hard as she could. Julie is sound asleep, so working as quietly as possible, I fish the charger I saw earlier out of her bag and plug her phone in on the nightstand. Grabbing another bottle of water out of the mini-bar, I set it on the nightstand with two Tylenol I shake out of a bottle I found in her bag.
Satisfied she’ll have everything she needs in the morning, I lean down and kiss her forehead, smoothing her hair back from her face and wondering how long I can stand there watching her before it turns creepy. I decide five minutes is the limit and walk back to my room, hoping there will be a night soon when I can stay with her and never leave again.
“Your latte, Juliette.”
Julie is standing in the doorway to her room, cheeks bright red as she takes the coffee cup from me without making eye contact. I take a sip from my Big Gulp to hide my smile. I knew she would be feeling some kind of way about last night. She’s wearing what has become her road trip uniform. Tight black leggings, a soft sweater—purple today—and shearling lined boots. Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and her face is free of makeup with a fresh, just washed look. She’s so pretty it hurts.
“And how are we doing on this fine morning?”
She takes a sip of her coffee and says nothing, eyes still firmly fixed on the floor, the fingers of her free hand tapping out a beat on her thigh.
I grab a handful of peppermint Hershey Kisses out of my jacket pocket and slip them into hers. I accidentally graze her hip as I do, and even though it’s through at least two layers of clothing, my fingers tingle at the contact, and I hear her suck in a breath and lean a shoulder heavily against her room door.
“Breakfast of champions. It’s not actual breakfast, don’t worry. But I figured we would get on the road first—there’s a diner I found about an hour out I think you’ll love.”
She just mumbles something under her breath. She still hasn’t looked at me.
The lack of eye contact is making me itchy, so I gently lift her chin with my fingers. When her gaze meets mine, I see it. Anxiety swirling in the deep blue depths. I can practically see her brain working through all the different scenarios of last night and what it means and what she should do about it. She has opened up so much to me over the last couple of days, so the last thing I want is for her to crawl back behind her walls. Not with me. Never with me.
So, I paste a smirk on my face. “See anything good last night?”
Her eyes narrow just a fraction, like she’s trying to figure out what I’m doing and react accordingly. “Watch any shows after I left your room? Anything…spicy?”
Come on Julie. Scratch me, baby.
Still nothing.
“Was the temperature in your room okay? Anything make you…hot?”
“For fuck’s sake, Asher, do you ever stop talking?” she explodes.
Bingo.
I tear open a bag of gummy worms and toss a couple in my mouth, washing them down with Dr. Pepper. “Nah, not when I have so much to say to you.”
“I honestly sometimes wish you would say less,” she mutters.
Relieved that she’s talking to me again, I grin at her. I want her to feel however she needs to feel about what went down, but I want her to talk to me about it. I want her to talk to me about everything. I want every thought in her head. So…fuck it, I guess. If we dance around it, we won’t get anywhere. We might as well just face it and get it all out right here in this hallway before we get in the car.
