Long Drive

by Jessica Florence

  She jumped out of the truck as soon as I turned the engine off and strolled inside of the fuel station.

  I’d fill my tank up the rest of the way, piss, and then grab the pack of Twizzlers I won from myself on my bet. Then I prayed to the truck gods that this woman didn’t make me want to drive off a bridge before I finished my job.

  Chapter Three

  Livia

  We’d been on the road for a little over an hour. I’d stocked up on my road trip goodies back at the fuel station, so I was good for a while. One bottle of water, a Surge soda, gummy worms, and beef jerky. It was what I always got when I hit the road, except when I put petal to the metal getting out of Sarasota, my home town. I was too anxious to remember to get my goodies, and I forgot all about them. A travesty, but I had them now. My grumpy driver had stayed silent, apparently content to listen to the satellite radio, a station that played everything from the ’90s and older. I didn’t mind. I was very eclectic when it came to music, so I just ate my gummies and subtly wiggled my body to the beat.

  Lemarque paid no mind to me at all, which I guess wasn’t a bad thing since I was sneaking peeks at him while he chewed on a Twizzler. His lips would wrap around that little licorice rope, and then his oh-so-white teeth would bite down, severing the piece in his mouth from the rope in his fingers. Now, I’ve never found someone eating a Twizzler to be sexy before, but something about how much time he took with each piece made my lower regions tingle with every bite. His tongue would snake out occasionally, and all I could think about was his tongue on me, licking my neck with open mouth kisses and little love nips with his teeth.

  As soon as he decided he was done with his candy, he set the remaining ropes in the package on the dash. A little groan of disappointment flew from my chest before I knew what happened. When he looked at me to see what the hell noise came from me, I felt my cheeks flush red.

  Oh, boy. Maybe getting in a truck with a young, hot guy was not a good idea. I turned my head and looked out the window. We were still in Florida, but it was different than where I lived in the southwestern region. This part had hills, and pretty oak trees.

  Knowing I needed to address my thoughts, I chewed on a gummy worm, and decided right then and there that I was just reacting to him since it had been two months since I last had sex. I’d sworn off sex recently anyway, so getting all hot and bothered watching my “roommate” eat Twizzlers was dumb. And that was the other thing: I was going to be sharing a small space with him; there was no room for any shenanigans in that time frame. I had one goal, to figure my shit out. I needed space and time to figure out what I wanted out of life, a little soul-searching along the way. No room for men, or anything else, to complicate my already shattered life.

  Wanting a distraction, I bent down to open my bag and found my sketch book. It had been so long since I touched these pages. Lane, my ex-fiancé, didn’t like the noises the pencil made against the paper, and he didn’t like it when my fingers turned black from smudging. He was all about image and stature. His family was all lawyers, the country club type of people. They didn’t like me much, but I still tried.

  My fingers ran over the paper, remembering how much I had loved to sketch. My smile grew, realizing I was completely free. I could do whatever the hell I wanted. I grabbed my little case of pencils and vowed right then and there that I would sketch every day. Anything I could draw, I would. My head dismissed the man sitting next to me and focused back on finding my own happiness in life. We rode in silence while I drew a little fairy that Lemarque had sitting on his dash. I found it odd at first, but didn’t want to ask him about it. He would probably just huff, anyway. Not very loquacious, that man. The fairy was cute, with blue wings, and silver hair. She was sitting on a rock, looking off towards the road ahead of us, enjoying her journey. Something about her made me interested in drawing her, paying extra attention to her wings. They were so beautiful, like a butterfly. I bet if she were real, she would be flying around just to watch her wings in the wind. It’s what I would do.

  We kept driving for about four hours before he pulled off the highway and found a parking lot to take a short break. He was quiet as he moved to the back sleeper section of the truck and opened a small fridge, pulling out a little container and some veggies. He got to work on making what looked like chicken wraps, then handed me a plate with one on it.

  “Lunch,” he muttered, and I accepted it hungrily. I was excited.

  “Thanks! I appreciate you sharing all your stuff with me.” I smiled, hoping he would see the gratitude on my face. He just looked at me, and I got the feeling maybe he would say something else, but he didn’t. He nodded and took a bite of his food. The exchange made me feel slightly awkward, so I turned back around in my seat and ate my food. One minute I think this was a great idea, then the next I’m wondering who hit me upside the head to make me think of this crazy plan.

  The silence was starting to bug me a little, so as soon as I was done, I told him I was going to go pee and stretch a little. The air was a little cooler once I stepped onto the ground; my arms wrapped themselves around my waist.

  We were in a Target parking lot, so I could easily amuse myself here. He gave me a thirty-minute timeline so I could pee, walk around a bit, maybe buy a thicker jacket since we might be traveling to cooler areas, and do some stretching. I did like to keep things loose, especially since I would be in a truck the majority of a month.

  With my two small bags in my hands I walked back to the truck fifteen minutes later and about stumbled.

  Lemarque was doing yoga outside his truck. Like, he was doing an up dog, and hell, did he look good! I was more impressed that he was actually doing it right, with good form, too. He must do this regularly. He stood just before my boots signaled my arrival, stretching his arms above his head.

  “Ready to go?” he asked gruffly, and I raised my two bags in the air.

  “Yep, I got things I thought I’d need.” I smiled, but he just looked at the bags then walked to his side of the truck. My smile drooped slightly. This grumpy shit was going to need a slight curve if we were going to be stuck in a truck together. We could be civil, right? Have conversations and stuff. Not anything crazy, of course I didn’t want to dive into my shit storm of a life, and I had a feeling I didn’t want to hear his story either. But a little small talk never hurt anybody.

  I crawled up into my seat and set my bags down, preparing myself to break the silence between us once we were back on the highway. Turning in my seat, I noticed his body looked a little tense, almost like he knew I was about to unload on him.

  “So, I’m just going to come out and say it: This is going to be a long month if we are going to be silent, and you’re going to stay all grumpy over there.” He looked at me, his face expressionless.

  “I’m not asking for you to smile and talk for hours, but maybe a little here, a little there? You know, like...” I tried to come up with an idea to help this sort of awkward moment. I looked around, and then it hit me.

  “We could play ‘twenty-one questions’ once a day. And that’s it. I mean, considering how much we are going to be together, that isn’t so bad, right? You don’t have to get all your questions out at once, either. We can do some in the morning, some at lunch, etcetera.” I felt like a genius, coming up with that idea. Even a lone feral wolf like him would be okay with that, right? Mentally I patted myself on the back and waited to see what he said, my eyes pleading with him to just give in.

  “Fine.” He relented, and I did a little dance in my seat. He watched me do it, and the look on his face said he was instantly regretting his agreement. Too late now, fucker!

  “What is your favorite color?” I’d start off simple, ease him into the experience.

  “Blue,” he stated, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. Blue. Well, his truck was blue, so that made sense. Keeping myself turned towards him, I waited for my question.

  “Your turn.” I tried nudging him along.

  “What is your fa
vorite color?” So original, that man.

  “Green. It’s a soothing color, I think, but the more vibrant shades can make you feel energetic.” I smiled to myself as he stared at the road like he wanted to throw himself in front of his own moving truck. It made me feel like screwing with him further, to see how far I could push him. Getting reactions out of someone was a guilty pleasure. I loved to do it, even if I would get yelled at or smacked on the arm in return. But if I saw something in someone that made me feel the need to do it, then that sealed our relationship. I loved to joke with people, rile them up. Lane never got that about me. I shook my head away from that thought. You’re not with Lane anymore, Livia.

  Time for question two.

  Chapter Four

  Livia

  I asked him what his favorite food was—it was pizza. Then he asked me the same. Tacos, of course. It was like hanging out with a parrot, but it was progress, and I would accept that for now. After another five questions about insignificant things, he said he would hold off for more questions later. So I went back to drawing more details on the little fairy. I felt the truck move onto an off-ramp and looked up. It was getting dark, and the clock said 8:00 p.m. Man, after our little questionnaire, time had flown by.

  “Stopping for the night?” I asked. He nodded in affirmation. The truck came to a stop in a parking spot, in line with other trucks, at a rest stop. Cool. There were bathrooms and snacks, and if I was feeling brave, I could walk around.

  “Where are we?” I looked around for a sign, but we must have passed it already.

  “Thirty-eight miles past Baton Rouge.” He stretched and stood to go into the sleeper section.

  “Oh, cool.” I’d never been to Louisiana.

  “What is the plan when we wake up?” Normally I liked to know a little more detail about what I’m doing, but this trip was different than all my others, so I was winging it.

  “Drive for another eleven hours or so, sleep. Drive the rest of the way to San Diego. Stay for a day.” He fiddled with a few things then hopped out of the truck.

  Well, okay then. We had a busy schedule ahead of us, so sleep really would be good for me to have. First I would pee and get ready for bed. I packed my Kindle and the charger in my bag, so I would probably read for a little bit before passing out.

  After peeing, I hopped back into the truck and my eyes bugged out of my head. Lemarque had just pulled his shirt over his head.

  Cheese and crackers, he was hot.

  His torso was all defined muscle. I don’t know when he found the time to work out with so much time on the road, but holy shit, he had it going on! My fingers itched to touch his pecs and the small, flat nipples, before following the lines of his abdomen, and then finally tracing that V that led beneath a pair of gray sweatpants.

  His head snapped my way after hearing the door open and close. Our eyes met for a minute, which made me blush, knowing I’d been caught staring at him. For a moment there I thought maybe this moment would change him, and I would see a flirty, fun side to him. But he just turned his body around and grabbed another shirt to put on for bed.

  My hand flew to my mouth when my eyes focused on what was on his back. His strong back was covered in scars. Like he had been in a fire, but it only got his back. What happened to him? Now those same fingers that wanted to feel him up earlier wanted to curl themselves around him and comfort him. I can’t even imagine how painful that must have been.

  “Before you go there, or try to—I’m not talking about it. Only hurts when I stiffen up; I do yoga for it. Looks like shit. But I’m fine.” He answered all the questions that were running through my head. Still, once I had those answers, it didn’t make me feel any better. I wanted to hug him, and let him know I was there if he needed to talk. But this was the silent grumpster I was talking to...he probably wouldn’t give up information if someone tortured him. As soon as the thought hit, I prayed that wasn’t what happened. I had a wild imagination, so him being tortured for secret trucker info wasn’t far off the map in my head.

  “Okay.” Somehow I managed to get that out, and he seemed satisfied.

  “Food’s in the fridge. Make whatever you want. We’ll stock up in San Diego. I’m gonna pass out. We’ll rise early. Keep the TV on low if you wanna watch something.” He sat on his bed and looked at me. He already had the top bunk sleeper down, and had a blanket on it. That’ll work.

  “Thanks.” After my one-word reply, he lay down and closed his eyes. I grabbed my sleeping shirt and pants then crawled up onto the bunk. It was slightly narrow, but I was a small girl, so it would fit me fine. The bottom bunk was a slightly bigger size, but he definitely needed more space than I. Quickly, I changed into my bed clothes and snuggled into the blanket.

  “Night, Lemarque,” I whispered into the dimmed truck.

  “Killian.” His voice was hoarse, like he was teetering on the edge of sleep already.

  “What?” I was confused.

  “My name is Killian Lemarque.”

  “Goodnight, Killian.”

  My eyes were on the ceiling of the truck, but my head was churning his name over and over. It was hauntingly beautiful. I ached to say the whole name aloud.

  “Killian Lemarque,” I whispered softly, before exhaustion of the day snuck up on me.

  I was peacefully dreaming about being on the beach back home, with a strawberry daiquiri in my hand, when a non-serene voice entered my ears.

  “Wake up. We’re leaving in thirty. Go wash or whatever it is you gotta do in the morning.” His voice made me wanna roll over and cover my head with the blanket.

  “Your choice. Use it or lose it. We leave in twenty-nine.” I groaned and threw the blanket off me. Grabbing my little bag of toiletries, I shot him a glare while storming out of the truck. Into a cold gust of wind.

  “Oh, God!” Too cold. I turned around and climbed back in so I could grab my sweater. If we were going to travel anywhere colder than here, I was going to need to pick up a heavy coat somewhere. The one I got before at Target wasn’t heavy enough.

  I swore I heard Killian chuckle as I hopped back into the chilled air and stomped towards the restrooms. There wasn’t a shower, but I splashed myself with water and cleaned up. Once dressed in new leggings and a long-sleeved shirt, I bundled up in my sweater and went in search of coffee. Normally I wasn’t a big coffee drinker, but if I was going to have to deal with Killian, the smallest ray of sunshine, I was going to need a little extra push of energy.

  By the time I strolled back to the truck, Killian was ready to go.

  “Okay. Let’s hit the road.” It made me feel kinda cool to say that. Wrapping my fingers around my steaming coffee from the vending machine, I warmed up quickly and started to get excited for being on the road again. Maybe it made me crazy, but I truly felt like the road gave me peace. So many people swore if they could, they would just pack a bag and hit the road, with no clue as to their destination. Just drive wherever the road took them. Well, I did that. I was pretty proud of my decision.

  I made a big jump and was willing to see where it took me. Even with grumpy as my navigator, it was an adventure, and when the road came to an end, I would be a different person. I knew it deep in my soul.

  “So, I know how upset you are about it, but we failed day one on our twenty-one questions plan. We have to make up for it today.”

  He grunted, and I decided to take that as enthusiasm.

  “Your turn to start.” I sipped my coffee and waited. He sighed, but then opened his mouth to speak.

  “Do you know you snore?” I choked on that sweet sip of coffee. Snore? Me, snore?

  “I do not snore,” I snorted. How appropriate.

  “You do,” he retorted, and I was mortified.

  “Nuh-uh.” I sipped more coffee, denying it all the way.

  “Still wanna play your game?” I swore he cracked a smile right there. Maybe it was my imagination, but it was a daydream I would hold onto for a long time.

  “Yes, I’m
not a quitter.”

  “Of course you aren’t.” I huffed after his response. Well, at least we were learning some things about each other. Trying to come up with a good question, we sat in silence while I thought things over. It actually took a while, especially since I kept trying to come up with a little retaliation question, but settled on something normal. I know, very boring.

  “Do you always wear jeans when you drive?” Like I said, boring. My eyes took him in for the first time this morning. Just as handsome as yesterday, so that wasn’t part of my imagination, at least. He was wearing another thermal shirt, in gray this time, plus jeans, and boots.

  “No. I can wear whatever I want.”

  “You probably won’t see me without leggings or yoga pants on during this trip.” It was the God’s honest truth. For one, it was chilly. No daisy dukes covering this ass during the day. And two, they were comfy. If one was going to be riding around in a truck all day, they needed to be comfy.

  “Your turn.” The sun’s rising light hit me and made me turn my head towards him to escape being blinded. He glanced at me slightly before focusing back on the road.

  “What’s that smell you’re wearing?” I looked at him in confusion before realizing what he was asking.

  “Oh, it’s lemongrass and vanilla. One of my signature sprays.” Pride blossomed in me then wilted away.

  “Your signature?” he asked, and I suddenly felt reluctant to talk about it. It was still fresh. Sensing my hesitancy, he gave me a look like he was trying to see through my eyes and into my head, but then gave up when he didn’t see anything of value. I wanted to talk about it. I mean, I made a choice; I should stick with it. Without my decision, I wouldn’t be here in this truck with him.

  After a few minutes of mulling it over in my mind, I finally went with communication.

  “I used to run my own botanical beauty store. I made soaps, face creams, lotions, body sprays. Stuff like that. But all made with essential oils and organic ingredients. I just sold it, though.” My voice fell, in saying the last bit. I looked out my window, avoiding his gaze that I felt like a shadow looming over me.