Runaway Road

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Runaway Road Page 15

by Devney Perry


  “Did you make it a good one?”

  I found his hand between us. “I wished you would come with me. I can tell you that because I know it won’t come true. But I wished it anyway.”

  His other hand came to his heart, his eyes clouded with sadness. “In a different life, I’d drive around the world with you in that Cadillac.”

  But he had a son. He had a business and a life in Summers. And the reality was, I needed to take this trip alone. The only person who could guide me back to me was myself.

  “This has been the best week of my life,” I whispered. “Thank you. I’ll never forget you.”

  “Same, honey.” He cupped my cheek. “Same.”

  A tear dripped free and he caught it with his thumb. I sucked in a deep breath and began putting the containers into the basket, busying my hands and mind before I gave into the damn cry that wouldn’t stay buried.

  I was sniffling, snapping the lid on a container, when Brooks took it from my hands and dropped it in the basket. Then he took my face in his hands and brought his lips to mine, kissing away the sadness.

  My arms snaked around his shoulders as his arms banded around my back, pulling me into his chest as we clutched one another.

  The picnic basket was forgotten on the rock as Brooks and I fumbled our way to his house. We left a trail of clothes on the way to his room upstairs, breaking the kiss only to shed our shirts. When we reached his bed, my heart was racing and my body aching.

  Brooks laid me down, covering me with his weight. His arms bracketed my face and his hips rested against my own. His cock was hard and thick between us as it nestled against my core.

  We stilled. Our eyes locked. Our breaths mixed. His heartbeat drummed in the same thundering rhythm as my own.

  “Don’t forget me,” I whispered. I’d been forgotten by too many people. I couldn’t bear the idea of Brooks forgetting me too.

  “I’ll remember you until the end, Londyn.” Brooks ran his knuckles along my cheek, leaving a trail of sparks on my skin. “Until the end.”

  I rose up and fused our mouths, giving him everything I had and trusting him with all my broken pieces.

  Maybe he would forget me. Maybe time would dull his memories or disease would steal them away. But I hoped this kiss would remain.

  I was falling for Brooks. I poured it into the kiss. If we had a month more or a year, he’d own my heart.

  Brooks, this home and his family were enticing. What if I stayed? I’d have a home, a conventional, warm home, for the first time.

  Not even Thomas had given me a home. We’d been two single pieces paired together for a while, but it hadn’t made either of us whole. Brooks had the entire package. He was the corner to a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle that created one stunning picture.

  Staying was enticing. But the nagging feeling in my gut wouldn’t go away, no matter how many times I kissed Brooks. No matter how many times I closed my eyes and pictured myself living here.

  The puzzle was built. There weren’t any spaces for me to fill.

  So I kept my eyes closed and savored the feel of his hands roaming across my skin, pretending this wasn’t the last night. I pretended this was every night.

  His kiss drifted down my neck and to the swell of my breast. Brooks tickled a nipple with his stubble before covering it with his mouth, rolling it over his tongue until he moved to do the same with the other.

  My fingers wove through the golden strands of his hair, pulling him up to my lips once more. I let go with one hand and stretched for the end table drawer where he kept his stash of condoms.

  He grinned when I handed it to him. “In a rush?”

  “For you? Always.” I smiled, waiting as he covered and positioned himself at my entrance. With a swift thrust, he stole my breath, filling me completely.

  “So good,” he groaned.

  I nodded, tipping my hips to send him deeper. So good.

  Brooks was the best lover of my life. He took control when we were together. His gaze raked over my body, appreciating every inch and banishing all insecurities. The man had a direct line to my brain. If I wasn’t feeling something or he thought he could take me higher, he’d change direction, because it wasn’t about him when we were together. It wasn’t about me either.

  It was about us.

  He rocked us together, slowly at first until the pounding of our hearts matched the rhythm of his hips. The orgasm that built seemed to shroud us both, taking us racing toward the peak at equal speeds, until we came together, sweaty and breathless.

  He left me for only a minute to take care of the condom, then he wrapped me in his arms and held me tight as we drifted off to sleep.

  We woke twice more in the night, not wanting sleep to keep us apart, until morning finally forced us into the new day.

  The dreaded Monday had dawned.

  “What time should I come to the garage?”

  Brooks stood in the bathroom, drying his wet hair with a towel. We’d showered together. I sat on his bed, wrapped in a fluffy gray towel.

  He swallowed hard. “How about I drive the car to you? Then you don’t need to worry about your suitcases.”

  “Okay.”

  I stayed on the bed—even as my hair grew cold on my bare skin—to listen as Brooks shaved his face and brushed his teeth. The weight of the day sank in and made my limbs nearly as heavy as my heart.

  Don’t let this be awkward. I closed my eyes, sending up a wish to the unseen stars. Brooks had been the best, most unexpected person to cross my path. We needed to end on a happy note—a kiss and a smile.

  Brooks kissed me on the forehead as he walked to his closet.

  Did he even realize how much he’d given me in our short time together? He’d shown me that leaving Boston had been the right decision. He’d shown me that there were kind, generous and loving men in the world.

  Had I left him with anything good? Or after today, would I just be the woman who’d left?

  Please, don’t resent me.

  I studied him as he dressed. When I pictured him in years to come, it would be in this room and in this moment.

  He was barefoot in a pair of unbuttoned and faded jeans. His chest was bare and droplets of water clung to his shoulders. And his eyes were as blue as the sky on a West Virginia summer morning.

  “Wyatt’s coming over?” I asked.

  He nodded as he tugged a green T-shirt off its hanger. He pulled it over his head just as the front door slammed downstairs. “Sounds like he’s here.”

  “I’ll get dressed and come down to say goodbye.” I took a deep breath and stood from the bed.

  Brooks nodded. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  I gave him a sad smile. “I think I’ll get a pastry from the motel today. You and Wyatt should get back to your normal routine anyway.”

  “Oh.” His jaw tensed. “All right.”

  This wasn’t all right but I feared no matter what I said, nothing would fix it. The awkwardness was coming.

  I tied up my wet hair and rushed to pull on my clothes. Brooks was the one to sit on the bed now, watching as I scurried around his room.

  “See you at four?”

  He nodded, his eyes aimed at the floor.

  I forced my feet through the bedroom door. I held my neck stiff, not letting myself twist and look back.

  Wyatt was in the living room, standing beside the couch with his phone in his hands and his thumbs flying. I walked into his space and wrapped him up, trapping his arms at his sides. “Take care of him.”

  His stiff frame relaxed. “I will.”

  “It was nice meeting you.” I let him go, unable to meet his eyes. Then I was out the door, jogging to the motel.

  When I was locked inside my room, I leaned against the door, taking a moment for my heart to settle. I swiped away one tear and gritted my teeth to stop the others.

  One goodbye down.

  One more to go.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Londyn
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br />   “Thanks for everything, Meggie.” I tucked my credit card into my wallet, then stowed it in my purse.

  “You’re welcome.” She leaned her elbows on the counter. “He didn’t talk you into staying, huh?”

  “No.” I gave her a sad smile. “Have a great summer.”

  “You too.” She sighed, then waved as I wheeled my suitcases to the door.

  It was hot outside and I’d much rather wait in the air conditioning for Brooks to show with my car, but Meggie was itching for some gossip. I didn’t have it in me to deflect her questions about my relationship with Brooks, not when all my energy was being used to fight the anxiety of the upcoming goodbye.

  I pulled my luggage down the sidewalk to the corner of the motel, leaving it standing on the concrete while I took one last look at Brooks’s house.

  When I’d run away from home, I hadn’t looked back at the trailer where I’d grown up. No matter how many years went by, that pile of filth was burned into my brain. The details lingered with perfect clarity.

  My parents had been passed out in their bedroom that day, the same place they’d been for the three days prior. They did that, holed themselves up as they rode out their high. I used to peek in on them occasionally. Sometimes, I’d stand at the door and listen for any sound. The doors were so thin, if I listened close enough, I could hear them breathe.

  It had taken me months to work up the courage to run. For nearly a year, I’d had a backpack stuffed with clothes and canned food. The final straw had been on the third day of a drug-induced disappearance. Mom and Dad had stayed quiet, too quiet, in their end of the trailer. No sound had even come from the TV. I’d gone to see if they were alive. When I’d cracked the door, Dad had been sitting up in bed, a rubber band tied tight around his bicep and a syringe poised at a vein. Mom had been asleep or passed out on her stomach at his side. Her nightstand had been crowded with half-empty bottles of brown liquor.

  Dad’s eyes had been glassy when they’d met mine. He’d stared at me for a long minute, tilting his head to the side. Was it regret I’d seen in his gaze that day? Or confusion? I’d never know. For a moment, I’d thought maybe he’d put the needle down. Instead, he’d muttered, “Shut the door, Londyn.”

  I’d shut the door. Then I’d gone to my room and collected my backpack.

  Running had seemed like the best choice. No home at all was better than waiting around in a dirty trailer to open that door again, only to find the pair of them dead.

  When would the image of that place fade? If I stared at Brooks’s house long enough, would it become permanently ingrained too?

  His home was so clean. The white siding was pristine. There was no cracking paint or water stains. The windows gleamed in the sunlight, and at the right angle, it was almost as if the glass didn’t exist.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing the house in my head. When I opened them, a car coming down the street caught my eye.

  My car.

  Brooks rode handsomely behind the wheel. He was not going to make this easy on me, was he? The top was down and his eyes were covered with a pair of sunglasses. He drove with one hand while the other raked the hair away that had blown onto his forehead.

  I didn’t need to close my eyes to commit that image to memory for good.

  Brooks pulled up to the curb and shut off the rumbling engine. “Well, it’s about two weeks too late, but I can finally give you back your car.”

  I smiled, walking over to the Cadillac. I dropped my purse in the passenger seat just as Brooks popped the trunk. I turned for my suitcases, but he stopped me.

  “I’ll get them.” He swung those long legs out of the car, got out and loaded up my bags. Then he met me on the sidewalk beside the Cadillac. No one would have ever known it had been scraped on a guardrail, then gouged with a key. “Anything else?”

  “No, that’s it.” I walked up close, placing my palm on his heart to feel the heat of him against my skin one last time. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” He shifted his sunglasses into his hair. “Promise me something.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, tense as I waited for his demand. Would he ask me to stay? Or would he ask me to come back? If he asked me to return to Summers, I wouldn’t be able to say no.

  “Promise me if you ever need anything—a friend, a place to crash for a week, a piece of pie—you’ll use that phone and call me.”

  I smiled, releasing the breath I’d been holding. “Promise.”

  My hand fell from his heart. My forehead took its place as I snaked my arms around his waist.

  He wrapped me up tight, whispering into my hair. “Goodbye, Londyn McCormack.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Goodbye, Brooks Cohen.”

  His hands came to my face, lifting my cheek off his chest to brush his lips against mine. He broke the kiss too soon, and I took a step back.

  I opened my mouth, but there was nothing more to say, so I walked around the hood of the car and settled into the driver’s seat. I moved it up from where Brooks had adjusted it for his long legs. I shifted the mirrors. Then I gripped the steering wheel.

  “All good?” Brooks leaned his elbows on the passenger door.

  I nodded. “All good.”

  Except wasn’t it supposed to feel like home? When I’d climbed behind the wheel in Boston, I’d been hit with such a sense of . . . rightness. That feeling was missing today. Maybe after a few miles I’d feel more comfortable in the seat.

  A pained look crossed Brooks’s gaze before he covered it with an easy, lopsided grin. He stood, tapped the side of the car with his knuckles and stepped back.

  I twisted the key, igniting the engine to life. Then I gave him one last look before shifting the car into drive and easing away from the curb.

  He lifted a hand to wave. I saw it from the corner of my eye but refused to turn. My eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead.

  I made it twenty feet before my resolve shattered and I cast my gaze to the rearview mirror.

  There he was, tall and strong, standing where the car had been with his hand held in the air.

  “Damn it.” Tears flooded my eyes but I kept my foot on the gas pedal. I only glanced at the road to make sure I wouldn’t crash into the motel. Otherwise, my eyes were in the mirror.

  Brooks stayed there, in that spot with his arm held high, until I rounded a bend in the highway and he was gone.

  “Shit.” I swiped at the tears as they dripped down my face. I sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to get my heart to sink down from my throat.

  This would get easier, right? Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but by the time I made it to California, I wouldn’t feel so heartbroken.

  I blew out a breath, rubbed the sting from my nose, then reached for the sunglasses I’d tucked into my purse. With them hiding my watery eyes, I focused on the road ahead.

  Summers disappeared behind me quickly, but the first five miles past town were excruciating. So were the five after that.

  It should feel better, shouldn’t it? This is what I’d wanted, right? I was free to follow my own impulses. I wasn’t trapped in the idea of someone else’s conventional life.

  I hauled my purse onto my lap, driving with one hand as I dug for the phone in the bottom. I pulled it out, needing to talk to someone who might understand why I was doing this.

  “Hello?” Gemma answered my call on the second ring.

  “Hey.”

  “Londyn? Where have you been? You promised you’d call.” She sighed. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay.” A total fucking lie.

  “Liar.”

  I huffed. “I’m not okay.”

  “Is this about . . .”

  “No, this isn’t about Thomas.” I blew out a long breath, so long, she thought she’d lost me.

  “Londyn?”

  “I’m here.” I looked in my rearview mirror, hoping to see Brooks and knowing I wouldn’t. “I think I fell in love with someone.”

  “Already?” Sh
e laughed. “That doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”

  “I just left him.”

  “Ah.” The line went quiet.

  “What do you mean, ah?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Gem. Tell me.”

  She sighed. “It’s just . . . this is what you do, Lonny. You get scared and run.”

  “What?” I switched my grip on the wheel so I could put the phone to the other ear. Clearly, I wasn’t hearing her correctly. “I didn’t run away from Boston because I was scared.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Ouch. Okay, maybe calling my friend wasn’t the right decision today. Gemma and I were always brutally honest with one another, but I wasn’t emotionally stable enough for brutal today. Maybe I should have delayed this call a week or two.

  “I left Boston to start over,” I said. “It’s time to simplify my life. I don’t have this overwhelming desire to prove myself, Gem. I’m not like you. I don’t need the money and the status.”

  “I don’t need—ugh.” She paused. “This isn’t about me, and I don’t want to fight.”

  I unclenched my jaw. “Me neither.”

  “I’m trying to help. You sound miserable. If you truly love this guy, whoever he is, then why are you leaving?”

  “I don’t know,” I confessed.

  “Are you afraid you’ll find something real there?”

  “Maybe I’m afraid I won’t.”

  “Oh, Londyn.” There was a smile in her voice. “It sounds like you already have. So why are you leaving?”

  “I need to give this car to Karson. I need to see that he’s okay.”

  “Do you have to do it today? Or tomorrow? Why not stay with this guy for a little while longer?”

  “Brooks. His name is Brooks.”

  “Why not stay with Brooks?”

  “Because.” My heart hurt. The fears were working themselves free, the feelings I’d buried for so, so long. “Because what if he leaves me before I can leave him?”

  That was the reason I ran, wasn’t it? To get away from the big hurt. Maybe the reason I’d been able to stay with Thomas all these years was because I hadn’t expected the end to hurt. It hadn’t much.

 

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