Page 21 of Exes and Oh Hell No

I wait for him to climb inside the vehicle.

When the headlights flick on, I back out.

As I drive forward, my headlights illuminate an old Dodge truck parked at the far end of the lot.

A man sits inside, but I can’t make out his face.

The cherry from his cigarette flickers through the open window, illuminating the rough outline of his jaw.

A shiver runs down my spine, and the hair stands up on the back of my neck as an eerie feeling steals over me.

Is it Todd?

My grip tightens on the steering wheel.

I don’t know for sure.

But something about the way he’s just sitting there, watching and smoking, like he’s waiting makes unease creep up my throat.

I shake it off as I pull onto the road, Ford’s headlights steady in my rearview mirror.

I’m safe.

If it’s Todd, he won’t do anything with Ford behind me.

I waveat Ford as I push through the front door of my childhood home, locking it behind me.

I head straight to my room, ignoring the mess of paint cans and tools scattered around the first floor.

The crew stopped by earlier to discuss the things that needed to be fixed before the house could be put on the market.

Most of the work is cosmetic, which keeps the expenses down and is quicker to repair.

I blow out a breath.

The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can get out of here.

As I climb the stairs, nostalgia presses down on me, thick and suffocating.

My bedroom is exactly the way I left it, the walls still painted a horrendous shade of lavender.

I strip out of my clothes, put on an oversized tee, then flop onto my bed.

My body is exhausted, but my mind is wired with thoughts of one person—Ford.

I throw an arm over my face, groaning.

I should not still feel like this.

Like my skin remembers him.

Like he’s ingrained in the fibers of my DNA.

Steeped into my soul.

With a sigh, I lower my arm, my thoughts whirling.

Tonight wasn’t a date.

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