Page 135 of Sweet Little Thing

“Where are we?” she asked with a raspy voice.

“An hour from Macon,” I replied.

“Georgia!” she asked, sitting up quickly.

“Yes, I did say we were going north,” I reminded her. North ofTallahassee was Georgia.

“But I need to get out of the state. At least. It’s why I went south. Florida was close, but it was still far from Savannah.” She sounded panicked. I wanted to know why she needed to leave Savannah. What was it that was making her do this? I knew Stone wasn’t a threat to her. There had to be something else.

“I was thinking Tennessee, but if that’s too far, we can go east and head into South Carolina—not far, but a different state,” I told her.

She groaned. “This is using too much gas. I’m on a budget. We can’t keep driving all over the Southeast. I need to make a decision and go there.”

I glanced at the gas tank. I’d filled it up an hour ago. “I’m paying for the gas while I’m with you,” I told her. “Don’t argue with me. I made the road trip longer than you intended for it to be. The gas is on me.”

She lifted the side of her mouth in a smirk, but she didn’t argue. She was worried about money. Again, why would she leave a job she seemed to love and the security of Stone’s apartment? What was it that would send her running? I started to ask and stopped myself. She wasn’t going to tell me.

“Hungry?” I asked. It had been four hours since her breakfast, and that hadn’t been much. I’d expected her to pull out a chicken biscuit. That was what that place was famous for. But she’d had grilled nuggets and apples. Not exactly filling.

She nodded. “Yes.”

I started looking for an exit with good food. Or at least decent food. There wouldn’t be that many options on this stretch of interstate. Not until we got closer to a large city. “What are you in the mood for?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Anything. I’m not picky.”

I already knew that, but I hated to be the one to choose.

“Mexican?” I asked.

She didn’t say anything, and I glanced at her, and she was biting her bottom lip. I thought she liked Mexican food, but her strange, nervous expression made me think she’d changed her mind.

“Maybe not Mexican, then. How about Italian? Pasta sound good?” I asked, glancing back at her again to see her reaction.

She looked relieved and let go of the lip she was chewing on. “That sounds nice,” she replied. I didn’t ask when she had stopped liking tacos, but I was curious.

“I think there’s an Italian place up ahead. I saw the sign for it a few miles back. They’ve got good breadsticks. Haven’t been there in years though. Since my early college days.”

She didn’t say anything. I had texted Stone while I was getting gas and let him know I had found her, and we were headed north from Tallahassee. I had to get through this first and admit to myself what I was doing and why. Then, I could face him and apologize. Try to save a friendship I never thought I would lose.

He had simply texted. “Thank you.” Nothing more. No questions. Honestly, his nonchalance had pissed me off. Did he not want to know how she was? If she was upset? Sad? Hurt? Anything? Fuck, he was a good man. I knew that. But when he shut you out, he did it completely. Was he planning on doing that to her? Could he? And if he did, would I be able to choose between the two?

I glanced at her side profile. She was alone in this world. I didn’t know the details but knew she wasn’t leaving Savannah easily. Heidi was too important to her. There had to be a very good reason. And I didn’t believe it was her fault. Stone was the one who I knew could be so damn dark that it was hard to be around him. He could shut off and withdraw. It was easier to believe he had made a mistake. He had made her believe she wasn’t wanted was possible. I just couldn’t see her doing anything wrong.

His friendship was something I needed in this life. I knew that now better than I had before. Being without it hadn’t been easy. But loving Beulah was the same. Being without her wasn’t easy. If I eventually had to pick one, it would be the hardest choice of my life.

“Jasper,” she said almost too quietly.

“Yes?”

“I need you to pull over. Now.” There was panic in her voice. I put on a blinker and slowed down to ease off the road. It wasn’t safe to be on the side of the interstate, but I didn’t question her. The minute I got the car stopped, she threw open her door, jumped out, and immediately bent at the waist and began to vomit. Over and over.

I watched her for a second thinking perhaps she got car sick. But then something else took root in my thoughts…It began to make sense. Reaching for the door handle, I got out of the car and walked around to her. The circumstances for her running, the sadness, the easy acceptance of my presence. It was all because of this.

When she was done, she put her hands on her knees and lifted her head to look at me. She was pale. Her eyes seemed larger than usual, and they were now watery. “Thanks,” she said, then stood up. She didn’t say more but turned, went back to the car, got a napkin out of the bag from earlier, cleaned her face, put the napkin back in the bag, and turned to place it on the ground outside. When she did, she glanced back at me again. “I know it’s littering, but I can’t…I need it out of the car.”

The smell of the chicken. Vomiting after the mention of Mexican food. I had never personally spent time with a pregnant woman, but I had seen enough television and movies. Stone had no idea. If he did, he’d be here. He would have been the one to track her down. He would be doing whatever he could to get her to come back. There is no way in Hell he’d have sent me instead.

She got in the car and closed the door. Walking around to get back in myself, I knew I was going to have to tell him. He deserved to know, and she needed him to know. But before I did, she needed to answer some questions. I wasn’t going to shoot off at the mouth again with information I didn’t have facts on. I was going to be more careful this time.

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