Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
The next spot is better anyway. I pull closer to the curb and throw the car in park, then I get out to grab Autumn’s suitcase out of my trunk.
She walks around the other side of my car and meets me back there. She’s a little spacey, her gaze drifting as I reach in to grab her luggage.
Suddenly, her eyes seem to clear a bit and she frowns at the rim of my trunk. “Is that… blood?”
My gaze darts to where she’s looking. My stomach drops at the sight of a small smudge of blood I must have missed when I did my hasty clean-up job before we left.
“Uh… no?”
She lifts her eyebrows in disbelief and stares at me.
“All right, maybe.” I lift her suitcase carefully, so as not to touch the spot that needs a more thorough cleaning. “Look, I didn’t have time to adequately clean out my trunk before we left for Stillwater. I thought I got it all, but I didn’t really have time to check, now did I?”
“You had a person in your trunk?” she whispers furiously.
I look around to make sure no one’s in earshot, even though she’s being quiet. “I told you I was working right before I picked you up.”
“Were they back here while I was riding with you?”
“No, of course not,” I say dismissively. I can’t believe she thinks I’d haul a body around in the trunk of the car with her in it. I’m not a fucking barbarian.
Her mouth hangs open as I put her suitcase down and extend the handle for her.
I don’t see what the big deal is, but I guess seeing blood is different from knowing I killed someone right before I picked her up. Actually, now that I think about it, I’m not sure I even told her that, specifically.
“I don’t ordinarily share my business with my girlfriends,” I tell her, so she knows why I’m not much good at it.
She sighs, watching me somewhat warily for a moment. Finally, she shakes her head and reaches for the handle to wheel the suitcase closer to her. “I was your girlfriend now, huh?”
“Best girlfriend I ever had,” I assure her.
It’s funny that’s what she’s hung up on more than the murder thing, but of course it is. That’s why I like her so fucking much.
Maybe that other couple influenced me a little, maybe it’s because the blood in my trunk jarred us out of the stiff awkwardness from before, but whatever prompts it, I reach for her so I can at least give her a hug before she goes.
Her arms wind around me with less certainty than they have before. When they’re secured all the way around me and she’s hugging me back for real, she murmurs, “You’re probably the best boyfriend I’ve ever had too, actually.”
“That’s a hell of a thing,” I say, trying to lighten the mood a bit as I pull back. Looking her in the eye, I add more seriously, “Promise me you’re gonna raise your standards going forward. No more cheaters, no more assholes.”
“No more thieves?” she asks softly, holding my gaze.
I sigh, leaning forward and kissing her forehead. “Definitely no more thieves.”
Her big blue eyes glint with bittersweet sadness when I pull back and look down at her. She offers a wobbly smile that feels like a knife right in my heart. “I promise,” she says, her voice breaking.
I see the sheen of tears in her eyes before she can look away. That’s like another fist in my gut. I feel helpless, wishing I could fix it, but she’s eager to flee now, so I wouldn’t get a chance to even if I knew how.
She sniffles and blinks a few times, grabbing the handle of her suitcase. When she’s ready, she takes one last look at me. She tries for a brighter smile, but it’s too bright. The kind of bright that can only be fake in a moment like this.
“Well, thanks for a memorable Christmas, Jasper.”
“Anytime, snowflake.”
Her chest rises and falls like I just gut-punched her, but she keeps up her brave face, tries hard to hold onto her smile. Finally, she turns around and starts walking toward the airport.
I sigh, shoving my hands into my pockets and watching her go. I don’t know if it’s because I want to see for myself that she makes it inside safely, or because some part of me hopes she’ll look back.
She doesn’t.
I’m proud of her.
I nod to myself, closing my trunk and checking for traffic before I walk back to the driver’s side.
I drop in and put my hand on the wheel, but I sit there for a spell before pulling out.
After spending so much time with Autumn this week, my car feels empty without her in it.
I try to shake it off.
I shift the car into drive. This time I’m not distracted, so I check for traffic before pulling out of the drop-off lane.