Page 92 of Not That Complicated

I considered finding somewhere else to stay or even turning around and driving back to Steeple Norton, but if I couldn’t face the hassle of getting out of the car, driving for another couple of hours was definitely too much effort.

I’d sleep in my car.

It wasn’t as bold a statement of taking control of my unravelling life as marching in and reclaiming my house, but it was a start.

I was reclaiming the drive.

I unclipped my seatbelt and twisted around to the back. I dug through my duffle bag, found a thick hoodie, and dragged it on. Pulling the hood up and kicking my shoes off, I reclined the seat and settled in.

If I couldn’t nod off by midnight, I decided, I’d regroup. Change the plan. Come up with an alternative. Grow a pair, I didn’t know.

I wriggled my shoulders against the seat back, crossed my arms over my chest, and closed my eyes.

Bang bang bang.

I gasped and flailed awake, hit my elbow on the horn, and locked eyes with someone staring at me through the driver side window, a mere six inches away. I scrambled clumsily backward, nearly penetrated myself on the gearstick, and flopped in an ungainly heap in the passenger seat.

Adam cocked his head.

I laid a hand on my heaving chest and panted at the ceiling.

Rap rap rap. He knocked again, gently, with a curled knuckle.

I clambered back into the driver’s seat, keeping a wary distance from the gearstick. I turned the engine on and powered down the window.

“Yes?” I said politely.

“What are you doing?”

“I was sleeping, until someone pounded on my window. What are you doing?”

“Nothing much. I was heading home at two a.m. Caught sight of a body slumped in your car. Thought I’d check it out. Call me curious.”

I stared at him. He lived on the other side of town. My house wasn’t on his way. “Were you coming to see me?”

“No.” He gave his head a single, decisive shake.

Oh. Of course he wasn’t.

“Okay, then,” I said. “It’s not a random body in my car, it’s me. I’m not slumped, I’m sleeping. Thanks for checking, though!” I powered the window up.

Adam watched the glass rise between us with an unimpressed expression.

My cheeks were hot. Catching my bottom lip between my teeth, I chewed nervously.

Why wasn’t he leaving?

Telling myself I was an idiot, I popped the locks and opened the door, swinging my legs around but not standing up.

Adam shifted back a step, continuing tolookat me. The streetlight turned his hair an eerie glowing bronze and cast a long shadow behind him. He held out a hand.

Because I am a fool, a crazy, hopeful fool, I took it.

“You’re such a dick, Ray,” he said, tugging me towards him. “Seriously.”

I thought I was going to get a hug or something. Nope. Once he’d yanked me clear of the car, he shoved me to one side and reached past me and into the back seat to grab my bag. He closed the car door quietly.

I’d never intended to mess with Adam’s feelings. I’d been trying to protect myself. But it had started to dawn on me that he was likely getting hurt. ThatIwas hurting him.

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