Page 26 of Pieces of Me

Farther up on the right, about twenty feet, is a single dwelling with large glass sliding doors that we use as our office. Dad—he wasn’t much into the actualbusinessside of the business, so I could probably count on one hand how many times he’s stepped into the office. I’m not saying he’s at fault for how things are right now, because he did a good job keeping it afloat for as long as he did. It just… needs an overhaul. And I’m here to do that.

To fix it.

Save it.

Sound familiar?

Behind the office is Jamie’s RV. Leveled out on concrete pavers and already connected to power and water, it’s hidden away enough that suppliers and clients won’t see it from the driveway, butIwill.

Dad and Mags are nowhere to be seen, and Jamie makes a note of this as she steps out of my truck. “I should find them and say thank you.”

I get out and join her. “Their truck’s gone.”

“Do you know when they’ll be back?”

Shaking my head, I tell her, “Nope.”

I follow her to a door on the side of the RV, where a bunch of keys is already in the lock. She opens it, steps inside, and because I’m only slightly curious, I follow her in there too. It’snice. Much nicer than I expected a mid-sized RV to be. Fairy lights are hanging on the edges of the ceiling. A large enough bed to fit two on the left, a kitchen and eating area on the right behind the front seats, and directly ahead is what I assume to be the bathroom. There are pastel-colored curtains, throw rugs, and cushions scattered around. It reminds me of her room at Esme’s. “This is nice,” I tell her. “Much better than the stark white on white of your trailer.”

She’s between the two front seats, hands reaching into tight spaces, eyes scattered, searching. “Yeah, well, it’s my home, so…”

“Wait.” I try to stand to full height and wince when I hit the bottom corner of an overhead cabinet. Rubbing at the sore spot, I ask, “Youlivehere?”

Jamie nods, distracted by her task. “Most of the time, I only really sleep in here. I’m either driving or working in—” She breaks off there, shaking her head. “Never mind.”

Hunched, so I don’t have a repeat head strike, I inch toward her. “Move.”

“What?”

“Maybe you just need a fresh set of eyes.”

“You don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“I’m sure I’ll know when I find it.”

Our close proximities make it impossible not to brush against each other’s fronts as we swap positions, and as much as I try to ignore the way her breasts skim against my torso, my dick notices. My dick likes it. A little too much. My dick also hasn’t let go of the memories of daisy fields and incredible voyeuristic sex with the girl those tits belong to.

I try to hide my body’s reaction to our closeness by… shoving my hand down my sweats. Because that’s inconspicuous.

“Jesus, Holden,” Jamie breathes out, looking everywhere but at me.

“Shut up.”

I sit behind the wheel and search the floorboard first, then the pockets of the door, and then the dashboard. That’s when I notice the photograph taped to the instrument panel. It’s a picture of what my dick was just fantasizing about: a bright-eyed Jamie with windburned cheeks and a daisy chain for a crown.

I peel the picture off the clear plastic and inspect it closer, my pulse weakening the longer I stare at it. I push aside the stirring in my stomach, the one caused by longing and regret. Clearing my throat, I can’t take my eyes off the image as I say, “It’s a little self-absorbed to be driving around staring at a picture of yourself, no?”

There’s a click beneath me and then a shift, right before my head spins. Literally. She’s turned the seat around to face her, one hand gripping the headrest while the other reaches for the picture. Her breasts are right at eye level now, and they come closer and closer as she leans forward, her knee pressed down on my thigh to replace the picture back on the dash.

I don’t breathe.

Don’t move.

She starts to pull away, but she doesn’t get far because at some point, without thinking, I’ve wrapped my arms around her waist, and I’m holding her.

And I can’t even count how many times I’ve wanted to do this since she walked out on me. No explanations needed. No reasons. No discussions at all. I just wanted to hold her.

If only once.

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