Page 20 of Escaping Our Reality

Glancing around, I point behind me. “What’s up the pathway?”

“Restroom.”

I swallow. Loudly.

That really makes him laugh. He leans forward, stoking the fire with a long metal rod. “Trust me, you don’t wanna piss where you sleep and eat.”

No. No, I would not want to do that.

Suddenly, my phone chimes with an incoming text message. Apologizing, I quickly grab it from my wallet and scan the message from Kristie, wanting to know where I am. Apparently, she’s sleeping on my couch tonight. Again.

Turning his wrist to look at his watch, he sighs. “It’s late. You should be getting home.” He grabs a large metal lid and snuffs the fire. We stand, together, watching the red edges of the embers slowly fade to black.

He holds the lantern to the side, casting some light in my direction as we walk. “Watch your step on the—”

His warning falls on deaf ears because my foot is already slipping off the small lift of the concrete patio, causing me to trip forward. Ry’s arm snatches out to grab me. Quickly rounding my side, he pulls my body against his. His large frame stops my momentum.

And then it fucking stops my heart.

I’m pressed against him. His arm snakes around my waist. I slowly lift my head. I’m just going to say thank you. That’s all I’m gonna do.

So, why is my heart racing? Why are my hands grabbing the sides of his muscular hips? Why are my lips parting?

He looks at me. I mean, helooks at me.

Kiss me,I silently plead with him. I say the prayer a thousand times in my head in the span of one second.

His head bends. His lips are so close to mine. My eyes close. His perfectly sculpted mouth nearly joins with mine.

Achingly so close.

And then… he steps away.

My eyes flash open and I watch him drag his hand across his face. He groans, clearing his throat. “You should leave.”

I do my best to pretend those words don’t hurt me as I turn to walk back to his truck.

We don’t talk on the drive back to the gas station to get my car. Not one single word.

When we pull up, he places the truck into park, idling the engine. Staring out the window, I reach for the door handle, but his words freeze me in position. “I meant what I said about not pursuing questions and answers with this part of Carrie’s life. It will lead to nothing but trouble, pain, and heartache.”

I scoff. “And that’s your professional opinion? Please give me more. I aim to please.”

“I’m serious, Lulu.” He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope we never see each other again.”

How am I supposed to take that except for exactly how he meant it?

I open the door and climb out, not looking back at him. I can’t stand the thought of looking at him. Why? Because I’m angry, sad, disappointed, and frustrated. All at the same time.

“What did you mean? Earlier at the party, you said you weren’t a fan of escaping reality. Why?”

The melancholy in his sigh is tangible. “Because reality reminds you where you belong. Enjoy your life, Lulu.”

I slam the door.

And I hope I break the damn thing.

Chapter 9

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