“Why?”
She blew out a breath, loud and short. “Long story that I’m not going to get into, but you should come up this way. We’ll have a drink.”
Shit. I paused long enough that she spoke again.
“The blonde one already told me about him.” The sounds of her inhaling on her cigarette came through the phone. “Bring him along.”
I bit my lip. Everett was very much a secret still. Even for me. But in a weird way, I’d missed Mira. “Okay,” I agreed quietly.
“Great.” I heard her exhale and imagined the curl of smoke around her phone. “Text me when you get to Denver.”
“Denver?”
“That’s what I said, right?”
I hesitated. “Okay. I’ll have to see if-”
“Just come. Bye.”
And then the line was dead. Mira didn’t bother with goodbye, not with me at least.
I sighed and looked out at the desert around us. There were weird noises in the desert, different than the city I was used to. The air smelled different, the heat felt different. I felt different. I turned back to the sliding glass door and slid back into the room. The only light in the room was the lamp on Everett’s side of the bed, the light he’d left on.
Everett hadn’t moved from the spot he’d fallen asleep in. I climbed in beside him and laid on my side, watching him. In sleep, his face was relaxed, free from the lines that furrowed his brow when he was annoyed with me, free from the lines around his eyes when he was flirting with me. He looked so peaceful, and a part of me, a small part, felt a tinge of sadness. He was dying. Soon, he’d always have this look on his face.
Despite it being against my self-imposed rules, I curled up close to Everett, laying my head on his bicep. I wasn’t sure if it was instinctual or not, but his arm curled around me, wrapping me closer to him. I hoped it was instinctual. And I hoped it wasn’t.
Chapter Fourteen
When I opened my eyes the following morning, I had the distinct feeling that I was being watched. I was warm, from being in Everett’s tee and under the covers. The fact that I was lying on a warm body was definitely part of that. I lifted my eyes up and met his chest, my eyes moving over the words on his ribcage before meeting his.
“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep. The room was still dark, so I safely assumed it was early in the day.
“Hi,” I returned. He was facing me on the bed, my head still on his bicep and his arm still wrapped around me.
“Why are you wearing my shirt?”
“Because I couldn’t find mine.”
“Did you go somewhere?”
I couldn’t help it. I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I went for a stroll down the road in just a tee, no pants or panties.”
“Why’d you bother with a shirt on then?”
I remembered my conversation with Mira. “I got a phone call,” I answered. “From Mira.”
Everett sat up a bit straighter in the bed. “What’s up?”
Was my face that transparent? I thought I had done well to keep my emotions, my thoughts, in check. But Everett seemed to see right through it all.
“Can we go to Colorado?”
“I’d planned on it. To hit the Four Corners.”
“Okay.” I rolled away from him and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. I pulled up the text Mira sent after she’d hung up, with a location in Denver, a place for us to meet. “Can we go here too?” I put my phone up to his face.
He blinked and took the phone from my hand, studying the phone. He reached for his phone next and typed something in. A second later he looked at me. “That’s about twelve hours from here.” He looked at his phone again. “It’s 5:30 a.m. We’ll have to get on the road in a few minutes if you want to make it there at a decent hour.”
I climbed off the bed and searched for my underwear. “Let’s go then.”
I kept my eyes averted from Everett’s as I searched for my underwear, hoping he wouldn’t question me about the trip. To his credit, he just started searching for his clothes too. I took his tee off and tossed it at him. “Here.”
I watched him hold the tee up to his nose. “It smells good.”
“Because it smells like you.”
“No, because it smells like you.”
I looked over at him, and saw him watching me get dressed, his eyes warm despite their cool color. Desire flicked low in my belly. “We don’t have time.”
He pulled the shirt over his head. “I know,” he sighed dramatically.
I turned away as my lips tilted up slightly. I wasn’t ready to fully smile just yet.
The drive was a long one, the longest we’d done in a single day so far, which wasn’t saying much since it was only the third day of the road trip. Part of me couldn’t believe it was only the third day. It felt like it’d been longer. At the same time, I was reminded of how little I knew about Everett.
“What’s your last name?”
Everett turned over to me, sunglasses shielding his eyes. “Seriously? You’re asking that now?”
I shrugged. “Probably should have asked it sooner, but I’m asking now. Mira is going to grill you tonight. I should know the basics.”
He turned eyes back to the road. “O’Callaghan.”
“Irish?”
He looked at me with that look I was growing to loathe, that “duh” look.
When he didn’t say anything else, I asked, “Aren’t you going to ask my name?”
“I already know it, Parker Sloane. And before you accuse me of something stupid, remember I had your credit card that first night we met. And then you told me about Morris Jensen. I would have figured it out that way, too.”
I felt it, that rumble of annoyance. We’d had a relatively easy-going morning too. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six. I already know you’re twenty-one, before you get your panties in a twist over me not asking you your age.”
The annoyance was simmering, threatening to boil over. “My panties aren’t in a twist.”
“Not yet,” he said. He slid his eyes over to me and pulled down his sunglasses. “But tonight? They will be.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself,” I commented. I sat back in the seat and forced my eyes to face forward.
“I am,” he agreed. “I’m also pretty sure about you. Some of the time.”
I wanted to roll my eyes. Why did Everett inspire the most childish behavior out of me? Before I could say anything, he was pulling off the road, into the entrance of the Four Corners. He paid the fee and parked the car.
“Hey Parker?” he asked, turning to look at me.
“Yeah?”
“Let’s go stand in four states at once.” He exited the car before my hand was even on the seatbelt release.
I scrambled after him, nearly falling onto the pavement as I exited the car. I laughed. It was short, loud, but I actually laughed. It stretched my cheeks and lasted for just a few seconds, but I laughed. When I looked up, Everett was staring at me.
“That’s a scary sound,” he said. “What is it you’re doing with your mouth that causes that sound?”
I stalked towards him, wanting to feel annoyance but all I felt was…light. “It was my laugh. You’re supposed to say nice things to me.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him towards the monument. “It didn’t sound as awful as the first time I heard it.”
I yanked my hand away. “That’s still not nice.”
He turned to me and pushed his sunglasses up on his head. With a sly grin, he leaned in. “You look incredible when you come.”
My eyes popped open wider than they ever had. “That’s…” I started. “That’s…not appropriate.”
“But it’s still nice. Really, really nice.”
And then he was off, jogging towards the monument, leaving me standing there slack-jawed.
When I finally caught up, Everett was sitting on a bench on the Arizona side. He held a hand out to me. “Stand with me.”
Reluctantly, I slipped my hand in his. He led me to the circle in the center of the monument. He turned so we were facing each other, with our feet directly on the lines that intersected. And then he pulled me in for a hug. I stopped breathing for a second. Had he hugged me before? I couldn’t remember. I closed my eyes for a moment. I was in his arms, breathing in that scent that belonged only to him. If he had hugged me, I would have realized it.
It was my first hug in years. So long, I couldn’t recall my last one. His arms were safe. I couldn’t help it: I snuggled closer. We stood in four states at once, together, holding each other for real for the very first time. My heart skipped several beats and my breathing returned to normal as I settled in. It was the nicest thing I’d felt in years. Who knew that two arms wrapped around you could feel so completely right?
I wasn’t sure how long we stood there, hugging each other. But it was the most connected I’d felt with another human in my life. Realizing that, I pushed away when the feelings got to be too much.
I backed up and tucked my hair behind my ear, looking everywhere by Everett.
“Come on, we’re on a deadline.” He grabbed my hand again and walked with me back to the car.
I was quiet on the walk back to the car because my mind was such a mess. I couldn’t decide how I felt about the hug. It was just a hug, but it was also the first human contact I’d had in years that wasn’t violent, sexual, or educational.
When we neared the car, I pulled my hand away from Everett’s and walked to my side, jumping in before he could say anything. I needed emotional and physical distance from him.
It was just a hug, I tried telling myself. But some other part of me didn’t listen.
Just after eight that evening, we walked into the lounge of Mira’s hotel. I pulled my phone out and shot her a quick text, letting her know we were downstairs.
My hands shook a little as we had a seat in a dark booth and I wiped my hands on my cocktail dress, hoping to rid the sweat that made them slick. My dress was a last-minute purchase just outside of Denver, at a mall. Cringing at the price, I’d slapped Everett’s hand away when he’d offered to purchase it.
“Absolutely not. I’m the one dragging you along.” The idea of Everett meeting Mira made me a little sick to my stomach and had affected my mood.
And it hadn’t improved once we’d arrived to the hotel and Everett had booked a room. It wasn’t exactly a motel. In fact, it was fancier than I’d have pegged for Mira. Instead of carpet, my heels clicked on pristine marble floors. Instead of smelling moth balls, the scents of roses and lilacs infused my senses.
So when Mira sauntered in with blue hair and an electric green dress, carrying the weight of stress on her shoulders, I felt relief. This was the Mira I knew, the Mira I remembered.
Everett scooted out of the booth and reached a hand for her. I didn’t bother standing, didn’t reach for a hug as was probably expected. Mira and I didn’t have that kind of friendship.
“The blonde one said you were pretty,” Mira muttered, shaking Everett’s hand. “I guess you are.”
Everett looked back at me in question and I shrugged, just as Mira turned to me. “Mouse.”
“Hi, Mira.”
She slid onto the seat opposite us and flipped open a menu. I watched her hands a moment, watched the jitters she was trying to hide as she flipped through the pages over and over.
I tried to ignore Everett and the way he observed Mira, but it was becoming painfully aware that Mira was not speaking.
“Why are you in Colorado?”
Mira closed the menu with more force than necessary and looked up. “Order whatever you want, it’s on me.” She tapped her fingers on the table as if she thought it would mask the trembling. “Or,” she said on a laugh, “it’s on Six.”
Six. Mira’s boyfriend, a man of no words. I looked around, half-expecting him to show up.
“Oh, he’s not here.” Mira waved it off and sat back against her seat. “But he’s the reason I’m here and he owes me, big time.”
I didn’t know what to say to that and knew Everett was looking at me for an explanation. “Okay.”
When the waiter took our drink orders, Mira finally spoke to Everett. “What are you doing?”
“I’m presently waiting for a drink.”
Biting on my lip, I gently nudged Everett under the table with my foot. I tried not to smile at the way he handled Mira’s question.
Mira leaned forward on the table. “What are you doing with Parker?” she asked, eyes twinkling.
“Right now, we’re sitting down.”
I bit my lip harder. Laughter threatened, so I focused on the wood grain pattern in the table.
“You’re funny. The blonde one didn’t mention that.”
“Jasmine,” I clarified. Mira’s eyes slid to me and I stumbled over my words. “The blonde one. That’s her name. Jasmine.”
“Jasmine,” Mira spoke, trying the word on her tongue. “It fits.” She nodded. “She’s a bitch, right?”
Nodding, I swallowed. “She’s not my biggest fan.”
Mira hooked a thumb towards Everett. “And is he?” I blanched a little, at how she referred to him in the third person.
“I…” my voice trailed off, not sure how to answer this.
“I’m warming up to her. Or, rather,” I felt Everett’s hand land on my bare knee, “she’s warming up to me.” He squeezed.
The waiter dropped off our drinks before Mira shooed him away. “Why’d you bring her along?”
“Mira-” I interrupted.
She held up a hand, halting me from continuing. “Parker, I know damn well that you aren’t the ringleader of this-” she gestured a hand to the two of us, “-trip.” She enunciated the word enough that I could tell she was concerned. Cocking my head to the side, I studied her. Mira rarely showed interest in my activities-not that there were many-nor did she ever inquire about my relationships-not that there were any-so this behavior from her was puzzling.
“This trip is my bucket list. Everything. I met Parker and thought she might like to do something different.” The hand on my knee squeezed again. “She agreed. We’re figuring it out together.”
I scrunched up my nose. Figuring what out? What was Everett talking about?
Mira seemed less confused than I, however, and nodded, her blue hair swinging around her face. She picked up her whiskey and sipped it delicately. “Where’s your drink?”
It was only then that I realized we were at a bar. Eyes wide, I looked to Everett’s hands, which were holding a glass of ice water. Lifting my gaze, I met Everett’s. He nodded once at me before turning back to Mira. “I’m abstaining at the moment.”
“I already told you not to worry about paying for this,” Mira said. Her eyes switched to mine. “Still on the limes, eh?”
I glanced down at my gin and tonic. The glass was full to the brim with limes. “Yes,” I answered softly.
“It’s not a matter of paying for it,” Everett continued. “But I don’t want to use it as a crutch.”
Mira’s eyes narrowed in contemplation before she picked up her glass and tossed it back.
“I need a smoke,” she murmured. “Come on, Parker.” Mira was already out of the booth and making her way to the hotel lobby before I’d managed to get out of the booth to follow.
I walked through the revolving doors onto the street and into Mira’s cigarette smoke. It was like walking back in time. The ER visit flashed through my memory in an instant.
“So,” Mira said after inhaling her cigarette. “What’s the deal?”
As much as I knew Mira needed to smoke, I knew the smoke break was also Mira’s way to grill me a little. While some girls would use the bathroom together as an attempt to get details, Mira didn’t waste time. She wanted a smoke and wanted to talk to me privately, and this was a way for her to get both.
I shrugged, a little self-conscious on the busy sidewalk with pedestrians moving about. “I met hi
m at a bar,” I began, moving closer to Mira and away from the entrance to the hotel. My heels felt foreign on my feet, causing me to teeter as I avoided walking into a stranger. “He’s…” my mind searched for an appropriate word, “nice.” Nice? What kind of word was that to describe Everett?
“Mhmm,” she said after exhaling. “He’s easy on the eyes, I suppose.” I watched her suck on the cigarette, highlighting the way her cheekbones cut into her face.
“Are you okay, Mira?” Instantly, Mira’s eyes shot to mine. Shock dissipated and gave way to suspicion.
“I’m fine,” she answered, her words as sharp as the line of her chin.
“Why are you in Colorado?”
She waved off my question with the hand holding the cigarette. “It’s a mess, and not something I want to get into with you,” she insisted.
The sting hurt more than I’d expected, but I shut it down as quickly as it came. “Okay. Well.” I looked back towards the hotel. “Everett has been kind.” Another word for “nice.” I tried again. “He’s not a bad guy.”
“Well,” Mira laughed short and loud. “That makes me feel better. ‘He’s not a bad guy.’” She laughed again.
Defensive, I spoke again, “He’s not holding a gun to my head. I went along on this trip to see a few places. New places.” I wrapped my arms around my upper body. “I quit my job.”
“Can’t say I’m sorry to hear that,” Mira answered, stabbing out her cigarette and lighting another one. “But you seem well enough.” She held the new cigarette at her lips as she peered at me. “He puts color in your face.” Her eyes settled. “Color is good on you. You look more alive.”
Alive. Everett had told me before, how little I was really living. Maybe he was having more of an effect on me than I knew.
Before I could analyze that thought any more, Mira and I were interrupted by someone stumbling into her.
“Hey!” she barked, losing grip on her cigarette. The cigarette fell from her mouth onto her cleavage, and she jumped back to keep the lit end from burning her skin. Brushing it aside, she immediately pushed the person who’d fell onto her. “Back off, asshole!”
[2014] Ten Below Zero Page 15
