Page 13 of David's Chase

I’m not planning to play hard to get––that train has already sailed––but I won’t make the mistake of expressing warm, candid feelings when it’s not the case.

Let’s not forget that hooking up with David Moore is like playing Russian Roulette.

It can get you killed. Although in my case, only metaphorically.

So… Who can I call?

Not my mother.

She’s probably asleep.

Not a local friend.

I don’t have that many, and it’s Saturday morning, after all.

Not him. Evidently. He’s not my husband.

Chloe?

No. No.

I set my phone in the cup holder and steer the car away, abandoning the idea and focusing on my ride.

It feels like a dream.

I’ve never been a car aficionado.Other than admitting that having a car was a necessity––although I’ve struggled with that lately––I couldn’t tell one brand from another.

But man, have I been wrong?

You don’t know what you don’t know. This is an entirely different experience.I enjoy it tremendously before thinking about Chloe again.

I should call her and start lying toherinstead of anyone else.

It’s easier, I think, than facing my mother and telling her about my new car.

So, what will I tell Chloe?

I check the rearview mirror and change lanes, gaining speed. The silence is brutal inside the car and in my head.

The interior smells nice, a mix of newness, a hint of him, freshly brewed coffee, and the product I put in my hair.

‘Don’t look at me,’the voice in my head grumps.‘And, yes. I know it smells nice. Knock it off.’

I shake my head slowly.

‘You’re such a sorehead,’I toss at her.

‘You’d be too if you were me and had to deal with your nonsense.’

I laugh.

And then I make an effort to figure out a story about my car. Something people can actually buy.

‘You’re a writer. Make something up,’she says.

‘That’s what I’m trying to do. If you could only keep your mouth shut.’

A few moments pass.

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