Page 26 of Burn Point

Maybe, just maybe, if things worked out with my insurance, I could take the plunge and start a new life adventure. I could be independent and explore the world. See all the places I’d dreamed of.

I knew I couldn’t do it alone. I’d either have to buy a new van, which I couldn’t afford, or go with the better option of buying a used one and setting it up. And to do that, I’d need to do a ton of research. But considering I’d parceled out most of my deadlines, I suddenly had available time.

And with any luck, maybe my roommate would be up for the challenge of helping me build it out.

A sliver of trepidation tamped down my excitement. Leaving on this adventure would be a risk, one that would also mean leaving Nate, and my new town and the tiny amount of security I’d been feeling, even if it wasn’t meant to be long term. This whole arrangement with Nate was temporary, and it was time to move forward.

Two days later, I waited for Nate in the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee. I liked that I’d woken early and could do something as simple as have his coffee waiting when he finally made his way home after his shift.

We hadn’t seen much of each other, mainly because Nate was still working storm relief. While he was working, I’d spent endless hours watching YouTube video tutorials and reading blog posts and articles about camper vans. Now I needed to check in with Nate and see if he was game to help me.

I handed him his mug and we went out to the back porch—a habit that seemed to be forming for us—and spent a few moments just sitting in quiet peacefulness.

“How was your shift? Run any cool calls?” I broke the silence.

“It was pretty quiet. Couple of medical calls, but we didn’t have to turn a tire after about nine p.m.” A loaded silence fell between us. Gone was my normally cheerful roommate. He was acting weird, staring off into the distance, as if he were thinking hard, taking a breath as if to speak, but then not saying anything. “We had one call that was pretty bad. Teenager in a car wreck.”

He frowned down at his coffee cup, avoiding my gaze. I hated to ask but felt like maybe he needed a nudge to open up.

“What happened?” I prodded as gently as I could.

“Kid over-corrected trying to avoid a deer or something, flipped his car into a ditch, hit a tree.” His voice was flat, emotionless, but his knuckles were white on the handle of his coffee cup. His throat bobbed on a swallow.

“Did he make it?” I asked as gently as possible. What this man must see on a regular basis in his line of work. How did he not crack under the pressure of all the trauma he faced?

After a long moment, Nate took a sip of his coffee and looked out over the yard with glassy eyes. “He’s pretty messed up, but he’s alive.”

“That’s rough. I know you did everything you could to help him.” I took his hand in mine. “Please don’t take this as me being uncaring…I know what you face every shift is hard. But you are not the cause of the accident, you are the solution to that young man continuing to live his life.”

He squeezed my hand and released me, clearing his throat. “Thanks for saying that.” Man-speak for he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

We sipped our coffee in the quiet morning until I couldn’t stand his brooding anymore.

“Nate, I want to talk to you about something.” Butterflies blossomed in my belly. This was it. Time to voice my plan.

His attention shifted to me, his gaze drifting up my bare legs, before meeting mine.

For a brief second, I caught a flash of heat in his eyes. What did he see when he looked at me like that? Was he thinking about me? Or was he still in the memory of that call? If things were different between us, if we were something… more, that look would have me crawling into his lap offering a different type of comfort.

“What’s that?” he said, snapping me back to present.

“I was thinking the other night, and I got an idea I want to run by you.”

He set his cup down on the armrest. “Okay, I’m all ears.” The weight of his full attention sent a thrill through me.

“I was scrolling social media after you passed out. Have you ever seen those vans they convert into an RV? And people doing the ‘van-life’ thing, where you live in an RV and travel?”

His expression was unreadable, prompting me to continue, “I thought that maybe, instead of finding another house to rent, that I might look into that as an alternative.” Hope laced my words, and I lifted my eyebrows, trying to appear positive, instead of nervous.

Nate studied me intently for a moment, his dark blue eyes searching mine.

“That’s an idea. I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll think about it?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, I mean, are you asking my permission or something?”

I frowned. “No. No, I am not.” In the back of my mind, I started forming plan B. If he refused, I’d just have to save a little more and hire out the jobs I couldn’t do. And that meant more time that I’d have to put Nate out. It’d only been a week, but what if he was tired of me living here already?