Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
“Where the Hulk throws Loki around and calls him a puny god?”
“Exactly.”
I grinned too and opened the laptop. Then we both settled in and pretended to watch the movie, while we mulled over everything that had just been revealed.
Chapter 7
It was more than a little surprising to find myself snuggling with Eden when I woke up the next morning. We’d both fallen asleep toward the end of the movie, and sometime after that we’d apparently gravitated into each other’s arms. It was cold in here, so maybe that was why he’d wrapped himself around me.
I let myself indulge a little, enjoying his warmth while I breathed in his clean, familiar scent. It was wonderful, but I knew he’d feel awkward if he woke up and found us like this, so after a minute I carefully slipped out of bed.
After I rescued the laptop, which had been just about to fall off the end of the mattress, I covered Eden with a blanket and turned up the thermostat. Then I went into the bathroom to get dressed and ready for my day.
But the time I came back into the room, he was barely awake and sitting up in bed. “Hey,” I said. “I’m going to go grab us some coffee and something to eat from the restaurant across the parking lot. I’ll be back soon.” He nodded, and then he absently rubbed his short hair and looked around, in a way that seemed a little disoriented. I could imagine him piecing together the night before and trying to recall how he’d ended up sleeping in my bed.
While I was gone, he got dressed and packed up his belongings. After breakfast, we got back in the truck and kept heading east. Both of us were quiet, wrapped up in our thoughts.
Eventually, we crossed from Nevada into Utah. Eden still wouldn’t let me drive, so I was left with staring out the window and letting my thoughts wander.
I was having serious doubts about this half-baked plan of mine to move back to St. Louis. I’d basically decided to go for two reasons—to get over Eden, and to let the awkwardness between us and between my brother and me die down now that my secret was out. But the awkwardness wasn’t actually all that bad…and did I really want to get over Eden?
Rationally, the answer should be yes. But if I was being totally honest with myself, I didn’t want to move on. I absolutely adored Eden, and I always would. It didn’t matter if I was living in San Francisco, or St. Louis, or on the moon. It was just a fact.
Instead of trying to get over him, maybe what I should really do was finally confess how I felt about him. Even if he’d never feel the same way, maybe he should know the truth. It definitely had the potential to put a strain on our friendship though, and that was what had always held me back in the past.
I was weighing the pros and cons of a confession when he suddenly blurted, “Shit,” and swerved to the right. I glanced up in time to see a squirrel that had darted out into the middle of the road. Then Eden exclaimed, “Hang on!”
The truck lurched violently as we drove over some rocks at the side of the road. I braced myself, and Eden’s hand flew out and pressed against my chest.
When we finally came to a stop, we were in a shallow ditch about ten feet from the highway. I let out the breath I’d been holding and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. What about you?”
“I’m fine.” I lightly caressed the hand that was still splayed out on my chest and said, “Thanks for trying to save me.”
“That was pure instinct. I was afraid you’d get thrown through the windshield.” He moved his hand to my cheek and studied me closely as he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t hit your head, did you?”
“Don’t worry, I really am fine.”
“Okay, good. I’m sorry about that.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” I told him. “Swerving was an instinct too, and I would have done the same thing.”
When he tried to drive us back onto the road, it immediately became clear something was very wrong. He cut the engine, and we both got out and looked under the truck. “You broke your rear axle when you hit those rocks,” I said.
“Damn it.”
“On the bright side, the squirrel lived.”
“That little fucker,” Eden muttered, as he pulled his phone from his pocket.
It took about an hour for a tow truck to show up. Then the driver brought us and the broken Jeep pickup to the nearest town—such as it was. A sign informed us we were in Echo, Utah, population fifty-six. Fortunately for us, one of those fifty-six people was a mechanic.