Page 55 of A Dash of You

“Thank you for doing this. You didn’t have to come.”

His large shoulders rise, then fall. “Sora—”

“I know, I know, you’re going to tell me not to thank you. But I’m not good at it and I have a feeling I’ll continue to thank you until God knows how long.” I fidget, adjusting the bottom of my shorts. “Do you always do nice things for people you hardly know?”

Word vomit again.

He looks over, peering down with those eyes slaying every part of my being. “No. I don’t.” Those brief three words hold so much.

We’re locked in each other’s stares before he breaks first, my cheeks warming. “I don’t trust many people.”

“You trust Crew,” I say, knowing there’s no doubt.

“I do.” He pauses briefly. “And you.”

My heart skips. He shouldn’t. Sure, I will never intentionally hurt him, but I’m not trustworthy. Not when my skeletons haunt me.

“I miss you at the café,” I blurt out. This is one of those times I should think before speaking, but hell, seize the day, I guess.

The tension in his face fades, and I swear he stands taller. “I miss your scones.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “They are good, aren’t they?” I’m not usually so vain but my desserts do rock.

Logan smiles, full-blown smiles and my heart nearly leaps from my chest. There it is. His smile is so beautiful as it reaches his eyes, creasing the corners.

With a small gust of wind, a piece of my hair dances in my face so I tuck it behind my ear. “How do you and Crew know each other, anyway?”

Before Logan has a chance to respond, the sound of two people arguing breaks our conversation.

And… they’re back.

Logan pushes off his truck, briskly leaving my side. He trusts me, even seems to enjoy my company, but other times he can’t get away fast enough.

“Think you two can play nice the rest of the way?” I ask, casting a stern glance at Crew and Lana as we all pile back into the truck.

Crew throws a bag of chips onto the seat. “I’m always on my best behavior.”

Lana goes to speak but quickly shuts her mouth, crossing her arms over her chest.

Baby steps.

“We still have a good distance, and we’ll never make it there tonight,” Logan says.

The guilt of having to spend the night somewhere weighs heavily. I knew I’d have to, but I didn’t want my friends to go out of their way. But they insisted on tagging along, so I need to cut myself some slack I guess.

Twenty

Lana groans. “We should have stopped at the first one we saw.”

“For once, I agree with you,” Crew responds, taking us all by surprise.

After having passed up the only decent looking hotel, we get stuck with this one. It’s to be expected because the trailer park is tucked away in the middle of nowhere and we are obviously getting closer. As we stand waiting for our keys to the only two rooms available, my skin crawls.

It’s your typical motel, with only two floors. The building stretches out like a beach, making it appear smaller when you look on. A potent mix of fried chicken and marijuana hangs in the air of the front office. The flies swarming around are from the filth, or a potentially dead body. I might be exaggerating but you never know.

The clerk hands Logan over the two keys.

“They’re on completely different sides of the building,” Logan states as he scans the motel numbers.

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