Page 63 of Bottle Rocket
She waved him off and turned to her sister. “Can you drive me? I think I’m drunk.”
Sasha smiled. “Where?”
“Somewhere between here and Memphis.”
Chapter Fifteen
Luckily,Leo had not made it to Memphis. In fact, as Rosie discovered, he’d only made it a hundred miles by the time she called him and ordered him to stay put. He obliged by waiting for her at a rest stop on the interstate.
By the time Sasha pulled into the rest-stop parking lot, Rosie had sobered up and was about to come out of her skin.
She didn’t wait for Sasha to say anything but jumped out of the car and wrestled her two suitcases from Sasha’s ridiculously small backseat. Rosie watched from the corner of her eye as Leo stepped out of his Airstream.
Sasha rolled down her window and handed over the big jar of sun pickles that Rosie had left on the car’s floor. “Want me to wait?”
“No.”
“What if this doesn’t go the way you want it to?”
Rosie glanced at Leo. He was leaning back against that silver bullet of a trailer looking for all the world like a model for bad-boy jeans. Damn, she loved him.
“It will.” Rosie leaned in and kissed her sister’s cheek. “Love you. Don’t forget to water my succulents.” She patted the top of Sasha’s Bug and carried her suitcases toward her future.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Leo said. His eyes followed Sasha’s car as it zoomed off.
“You got room for one more in there?” she asked. “I packed light. This is mostly jam-making supplies and sex toys.”
He took a tentative step toward her, then a faster one. She dropped her suitcases and gingerly placed the pickles on the cement. He swept her into his arms.
There was a field of golden wheat to their right and a highway full of fast cars to their left. The summer sun was lemon bright, and Leo’s hands were strong. It felt very cinematic.
He picked her up and swung her around, his happiness this visceral, palpable thing. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him.
“I brought you pickles,” she said.
He didn’t put her down. He hugged her harder.
“Leo, say something.”
“Can’t. Think I’m gonna cry.”
She kissed his ear. “Because of the pickles?”
He put her down and caught her face between his palms. He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him.
“Hold on. Me first.” She gripped his wrists. “I love you. Okay, your turn.”
Leo’s forehead started to crumple, and he shook his head. “I thought you might decide that you didn’t …”
“Didn’t what?”
“Want me.” He shrugged. “I’ve been crying and listening to my Lilith Fair playlist for two hours, trying to wash my emotions away. Didn’t work. I was so scared I’d lost you. I was sure I was making a mistake by leaving.”
She grabbed his hand and turned it over so she could see his tattoo, the one that saidLife Raft. “We’ve both been adrift for a while now. I want to be your life raft. I want you to be mine. I want everything you said. The split time. The summer trips in your Airstream. The school year at my condo. I want to make jam with you, and go to leather conventions with you, and have way too much phone sex with you. I will never try to change you or hold you back. I want you to know that even when we’re apart, I still love you, I understand you, and I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the road.”
“I don’t want this relationship to hurt you. Ever. I’ve hurt people in the past. My schedule and the traveling. It’s not easy on people, and I—”
She put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t make me get bossy. I’m not your past. You’re not mine. We’re not the same people we were at eighteen, thank God. Most importantly, I don’t want to change you. Will it be hard? Of course. Does that mean it’s not worth the fight? No. It is worth it. You’re worth it, Leo.”
