Page 23 of Love You From Afar

“Then why did you still have them in your ears? And why were you pretending to be asleep?” He scoffs.

“Because I was trying to avoid you at all costs.” I can’t help the hint of a smile that curves my lips.Is it bad that I kind of love our back-and-forth banter?

“So, all it takes to get your attention is for another woman to call me?” He smirks. “You damn near ripped those headphones out of your ears and shot up like a rocket as soon as she hung up.” Shaking his head, he lets out a low chuckle.

“I’m just in shock that you have a girlfriend, that’s all,” I shoot back.

“Cassie isnotmy girlfriend,” he immediately replies, his tone laced with irritation.

His response shouldn't send a wave of relief rushing through my veins, but it does.

Cassie.I remind myself to file that name under the “names I hate” category in my brain. She’s probably a nice woman, but the way she practically begged Everett to go out with her again makes my blood boil. If I had to put money on it, he’s not interested in her. I know how Everett acts when he’s interested, and that sure as hell wasn’t it.

“Oh, so she’s just a fuck buddy?”

My eyes widen as soon as the question flies out of my mouth.What the hell, Skylar?Think before you speak.If he didn’t think I was jealous before, he definitely knows now.

“Uhm,” Everett fumbles with the water bottle in his hand, choking mid-sip. “Did you seriously just ask me that?” A shocked expression takes over his stoic face.

“You’ve asked me plenty of personal questions,” I shrug.

“How does who I fuck concern you?” He flicks his searing gaze back to me.

Holy hell… hearing the wordfuckfall from his lips in relation to sex shouldn’t sound that hot. Thank God I don’t have a dick, because I’m sure it would be standing at attention, saluting his gravelly words.

“Why are you answering my questions with backhanded questions? Why do you deserve answers from me but not vice versa?”

“Are you really going to make me say it, Skylar?” He asks gruffly.

“Say what?” My brows pull together in confusion.

He exhales a deep breath, rubbing his palm against his forehead.

“I asked you those questions because as much as it kills me to admit, I genuinely care about you. I don’t want you to wake up in thirty years and regret things that you have full control over.”

I narrow my eyes at him and scoff, shaking my head. “Yeah, because my life issomiserable now.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Skylar,” he sighs. “My point is that I asked about your happiness… your job. Not how many times a week you fuck my brother or when the last time he made you come. You want to talk about personal questions? Asking about my sex life is fucking personal.”

Silence and tension fill the small space between us. The only noise is the heavy sound of our intermingled breaths. In a roundabout way, I asked him if he’d had sex with Cassie, which is really none of my business. I just… I subconsciously blurted it out without even thinking. It was as if that hollow part of me that only he can fill needed to know.I’m still itching to know.

Before I have a chance to respond, we’re startled by three firm taps on Everett’s window. Our heads snap to the left to see an officer in full uniform waiting for Everett to roll down the tempered glass.

“Dammit, what now?” Everett grunts, closing his eyes as he tilts his head back against the seat. He’s pissed, and I don’t blame him. Today is not at all turning out how we thought it would be. I can’t help but feel a little bad, because I am the reason that we got a late start.

He presses his finger to the small black button on the door, lowering the window. Frigid air fills the cab as thick snow flurries trickle inside, melting into small droplets when they land on the heated interior.

It’s been snowing for hours now, blanketing the flat plains in sheets of white. The roads still seem to be okay, but we’re currently sitting in stand-still traffic, so I guess that’s not a good sign. The traffic has been ebbing and flowing, but we haven’t moved an inch in the last half hour.

“Hello, sir—” The officer tries to speak before Everett impatiently cuts him off.

“I know, I know. License and registration, I’m getting it,” Everett exhales, reaching across to open the glove box. “I know for a fact I wasn’t speeding, so why are you stopping me?”

“If you would’ve let me continue, you would know that I’m not pulling you over. No need for your license and registration.”

My head swivels from the windshield to the back window when I realize I don’t see his cop car in front or behind us. I narrow my eyes, looking off into the distance when I spot a line of white Suburbans with red and blue flashing lights pulled off on the side of the highway. We aren’t the only vehicle with an officer at their window.What the hell is going on?

“I’m Officer Davis,” he continues. “We’re out here informing civilians that this highway will be closing down at six p.m., which is in a few hours. As you can see, the snow isn't letting up and temperatures are quickly dropping. Once the sun goes down, we’re expecting the roads to ice over. The roads out here aren’t prepared for this kind of winter weather, and we don’t want to put anyone in danger.”

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