Page 18 of Last Minute

“Cassiopeia. One of the most recognizable constellations in the northern hemisphere for its distinctive W shape. Named for a vain queen in Greek mythology.

“Orion. Prominent during winter in the northern hemisphere. Its seven brightest stars form a distinct hourglass shape. It also contains the famously named star—Betelgeuse.

“Draco. The dragon. One of the few constellations that can be seen year-round in the northern hemisphere, as well as one of the largest constellations in the sky.

“Boötes. Contains the prominent star Arcturus—”

“I’m sorry, did you just say booty?” I can’t hold back my laughter, and surprisingly, Erik laughs along, too.

“Not booty. Boötes. It means ‘the Herdsman.’”

“It kind of looks like an ice cream cone.”

Erik laughs again. “You’re right. Most of the time, the constellations look nothing like what they’re named after.”

My fingers drift over the other images on his skin. The mountains and the trees circle near his wrist, and my fingers catch on the edge of something I can’t quite make out on the inside of his forearm.

“What’s that one?” I ask, tracing the long, straight edge. Erik rotates his hand on the gear shift, revealing the inside of his forearm and a broken sword hilt that fills the space between his wrist and elbow.

Erik looks down and rolls his eyes. “That is a sword I got when I was young and stupid.”

I trace the jagged edge of the broken blade. “Does it have a story, too?”

He snorts, but his mouth is still shadowed by a faint smile. “I thought it looked cool.”

I run my fingers down the artwork, from the inside of his elbow to his wrist. As my fingers near his palm, he opens his hand, almost in invitation. But when my fingers touch the rise of his palm, my logical brain finally kicks into gear.

Liking Erik can’t be more than a fantasy. There are things dividing us that I have no control over, things that are more than just the Atlantic Ocean.

I curl my fingers closed and pull my hand back to rest on my lap. Erik watches my retreat, and when I have my phone—my security blanket—gripped between my hands, he pulls his own arm back and grasps the steering wheel.

CHAPTER 14

Erik

I expected Ellie to ask another question, but after she pulled her hand away from my arm, she was quiet for almost an hour.

I wasn’t expecting her to slip her fingers into mine, but I can admit to myself that I thought about it. She’s my client. And a princess. And there’s a thousand other reasons that she and I…we just won’t work.

I don’t regularly listen to music while I’m in the car, so not even the radio fills the silence. But I’m fine with silence. It’s not weird or awkward because one of us did something embarrassing. It’s a mutually agreed upon silence after the divulgence of information that I wasn’t planning on sharing.

Talking about my dad is hard sometimes. It dredges up a lot of hurt and anger from my early twenties that I’d rather not relive, especially as we’re headed to the wedding of the person who caused a lot of those hard feelings.

But remembering the good times with him, back before he got sick and died, was nice. It’s why I have the tattoos I do. I didn’t want to remember my dad the way he went out—in a hospital bed, not looking like himself, with way too many cables and tubes coming off him. I wanted to honor the gift he gave me, that love for the stars and camping deep in the mountains where you can actually see them. Even though I lost the passion for it after he died, and I couldn’t bring myself to finish my degree, talking about those constellations I inked on my skin for him was good.

Being with Ellie is good. I spend so much of my time at work and on assignments with my emotions boarded up behind a barrier of my own creation. I thought that to be a good protection agent, I had to be emotionless and detached. Completely objective to every situation. But Ellie has shown me over the last two days that the human behind the mask needs his time to breathe, too.

“Take the next exit,” Ellie instructs, breaking our silence. Over the last hour, I’ve noticed her spending a lot of time on her phone. It’s not my place to pry, so I didn’t ask what she was doing.

I follow her directions until we’re pulling into the parking lot of another hotel. When we’re parked, Ellie tips her phone in my direction.

“I planned our route. Each day, we’ll have around two hours of driving, leaving plenty of time for us to explore things when we stop. Or along the route as we drive. I’ve never really been outside of the big cities along America’s east coast, so I’m flying blind here. But I did find and book two hotels along the way, and then one in Boston proper.”

She cuts a glance my way before averting her eyes and blushing lightly. “I figured you don’t want to spend more time at the wedding than you have to, so I took the liberty of keeping us far enough away from where your mom lives that we won’t run into her, but close enough that we’re not spending too long driving in our formal wear on Friday.”

Ellie extends her phone for me to take, so I slip it out of her hand and scroll along the route she has planned. It’s a familiar path, but there are two small detours where she has us stopping for the night.

It’s very thoughtful of Ellie to plan for us to stay in Boston instead of where Mom lives. My worst nightmare would be needing to ask her for a room for the two of us.

---