Page 80 of Truck Stop Tempest

“I made breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

She headed for the door. I tossed her plate in the sink.

“I’ll drive you down.”

“Tango is waiting for me outside. He’ll drop me off.”

Ouch.

I watched, tongue-tied and dizzy, as she slipped into her Docs, then bent to tie her laces.

True, her gaze hit—with laser precision—every point of her attention, avoiding me with steel-spined resolve, but never once did it drop to the floor in submission or fear. Not one time.

As much as I wanted her eyes on me, as much as I needed her to cry, or scream, or yell, and tell me I was being a jackass, or to fall into my arms and tell me everything was going to be okay, I was proud of how far she’d come.

She wasn’t only breaking free of her family binds. She was growing. The air around her shifted, crackling with energy, alive with the promise of an oncoming storm. I hated that she was pulling away. But I loved that she was finding her strength. Her voice. Her beast.

The ache in my gut settled deeper.

“Tuuli. I’m—”

“Sorry.” She stood straight, arms at her sides, heel bouncing. “I know.”

I stepped closer. She chewed her bottom lip.

Closer still, her eyes found mine. I reached for her, she stiffened, sighed, then fell against me, mumbling into my shirt. “When are you moving into your condo?”

Goddamn that hurt. “Are you eager to be rid of me?”

“No. I just…”

“Need space.” I squeezed her tight. “I get it. Space will be good.” Lie. Lie. Lie.

“That’s not it. I just…I don’t know. It’s hard enough knowing you won’t be here. I want to get the leaving part over with.”

Bullshit. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“It does. I don’t expect you to understand.”

I understood. She needed things I couldn’t give. “I’ll have my shit out of here by this afternoon.”

Her eyes liquefied. “I gotta go.”

How could I let her go? She belonged right where she was. Against my chest. “Are we good?”

Warm lips pressed against my neck. “We’re good.”

“Can I pick you up after your shift?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Good. So, it’s a date.”

She tilted her head back to meet my gaze. “Yeah. I like that. A date.”

I kissed her hard, our goodbye settling in my body like the early stages of the flu.

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