Page 83 of Ronan

“Brilliant idea… let’s invite the even hotter air outside to come inside with us. That’s a fantastic plan.” Ronan’s sigh is dramatic as he reaches forward, switching on the fan, although the air conditioner remains stubbornly off.

“Sweet relief!” I cry, shoving my face into the vent as the breeze blows across my skin.

“If we have to abandon this vehicle, your box of books is the first thing we’re leaving behind.”

Damn, he knows how to hit me where it hurts.

Pretending I didn’t hear him, I sit back and nonchalantly switch the fan into the off position, sweat instantly prickling on my forehead. “What’s wrong?” he asks, glancing towards me with a smirk. “Are you not hot anymore?”

“Nope, I’m freezing. Don’t need that cold air to give me hypothermia.”

“Weren’t you just complaining that you were sweating?”

“Definitely not. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s frozen into a thin layer of ice now. All good.” My sarcastic thumbs up makes him laugh, and he reaches for my hand, weaving our fingers together. “Were the gloves necessary? While it’s a nostalgic throwback to the beginning of our relationship, I’ve grown rather fond of touching you.”

“It’s for your protection. I’m just being cautious.”

“More like being a dictator,” I grumble, “with emphasis on thedick.” He squeezes my hand, and I sigh in defeat. We had this argument three times as we got dressed, and yet here I am—leather pants chaffing my ass as I resign myself to a day of profuse sweating for the sake of my ‘protection.’

“How long are we going to drive today?” It’s well after lunch now, the sun bright in the midday sky. Since we’ll be living off dried food for the foreseeable future, Ronan cooked one last hot meal before we left. My stomachis pleasantly full, and he made a few loaves of bread that are wrapped in towels for later.

“When it gets closer to sundown, we’ll search for somewhere to camp for the night. It’s too dangerous to be on the road after dark. We’d be spotted more easily, and it’ll be harder for me to recognize landmarks.”

“Do you think you can find this place?”

He chuckles, grinning at me with a sideways glance. “Still doubting me?”

“Always,” I answer, and I join him as he laughs, even as the spark of unease prickles under my skin.

Aside from a few deer bouncing along the tree line, the drive is quiet and uneventful. Boomerang rams her head into the window when she sees them, tail thudding in her space amongst the supplies. She doesn’t mind, sticking her face into everything as she sniffs, and I only have to fuss at her once when she’s too interested in my bread.

“Keep an eye out for a safe place to settle for the night. It’s early, but we’ll have to take what we can get,” Ronan says after a pit stop for a bathroom break. His jaw works as he eats a piece of dried meat, and I stare for an abnormally long time at the bunch of his muscles.

You know you’ve got it bad when chewing becomes sexy.

His brow arches as he tosses another side-eye my way, and I realize I’m staring. Heat rises in my cheeks as I agree to keep watch, forcing my gaze from his lickable jawline to the dusty landscape.

It’s a big ask—finding a place where we can hide the van overnight. Spoiled by the luxury of a bed and overhead fan at the rebel camp, I’ve accepted tonight’s sleepwill be uncomfortable. Most likely, we’ll have to curl up inside the van or on the ground.

Funny how half a decade of sleeping outdoors was ruined by a couple of weeks in a bed.

Another hour ticks by, and Ronan’s eyes dart to the fuel meter when he thinks I’m not watching. Though he won’t admit it out loud, he’s nervous we’ll run out. Spare gas not only takes up a lot of space, but it’s risky.

Fumes.

Flammability.

Even with stabilizers, there’s a chance it could be bad, and we could lose range, or worse—damage the engine.

A shadow sits in the middle of the dusty land, miles away, and I point. “There’s a cluster of trees over there. It’s a decent distance from the road and looks pretty big. The van should be able to squeeze in somewhere and stay hidden.”

Ronan narrows his eyes at the dark mass. “How did you even see that? I have superior vision and I didn’t notice it.”

“Superior vision, what an ass,” I snort, and he takes a few seconds to glare at me. “Remember, I’ve been on the road for a long time. The years of searching for a safe sleeping place outweigh your first-class monster senses.”

“Fair enough,” he mutters, and we stay on the old pavement until the ground becomes more level. A bone-jarring bump sends my hand flying to the van’s roof to catch my balance as we veer into the dirt. Ronan throws me another one of his haughty side-eyes. “You whine about my drama queen tendencies, and you’re over there acting as if we’re driving off the edge of a cliff.”

“Listen, my experience riding in a vehicle is very limited, but it’s clear that minivan tires aren’t intended to launch us from craters. Believe it or not, the, I dunno… eight inches of clearance isn’t enough for this terrain.”

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