Pushing the door wide, we’re met with a jingle from the little brass bell above. The hum of conversation inside goes quiet as we step in, our bedraggled appearance earning more than a few curious stares. A waitress, somewhere in her forties with a kind face and her blonde hair piled into a messy bun, approaches cautiously. Her name tag readsLinda.
“A booth for two, is it?” she asks, her gaze flickering over us before landing on Baxter, who’s salivating all over the floor. “I’ll see that your pooch has some food and water set out by the door. Follow me,” she smiles. Briefly stopping by the counter, Linda asks a colleague to attend to Baxter, and the young girl’s face lights up. She bounds off to make a fuss of him, both happy for the company.
“I’ll bring some water and menus,” Linda says, seeing us to our table. We collapse into the booth, the cracked vinyl cushions squeaking under us. Our backpacks are forgotten by our feet. The locals are still staring, whispering quietly around us. Disheveled or not, it won’t be long before Wyatt is recognised and they start snapping photos for the papers.
Linda returns quickly with glasses of water and a basket of complimentary rolls, and I swear I’ve never tasted anything as good as the first bite of warm bread. Wyatt watches me tear into a second roll with an amused expression, though he’s not far behind, stuffing his face with the same resolve.
“Where are you two coming from?” Linda asks when she returns with the menus, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“The forest,” Wyatt answers vaguely but not rudely. Like a ton of bricks, it hits me that he is being cautious of how much information we reveal. That I should also be careful who I speak to and what I say. “We had a little accident with our car and were left stranded. You wouldn’t happen to know a mechanic? And a place we can stay until we can get back on the road?”
“Oh, you poor dears!” Linda clutches her chest, looking between us with large brown eyes. “Let me make some calls and see what we can do. For now, rest and know that we serve the best burgers in town right here.” She winks before walking off to take another table’s order.
I glance at Wyatt over the rim of my glass. He’s watching her closely, a sliver of tension rippling through his shoulders. For someone I pegged as a materialistic man, the dirt smeared across his T-shirt and his chipped fingernails are the last thing on his mind. He’s thinking, calculating. Slowly returning to the version of Wyatt who puts himself on the outside of a conversation, who sees too much and overthinks constantly.
“What are you going to get?” I ask, pushing a menu his way.
“Everything,” he says without missing a beat. I laugh, earning a sideways smirk from him. Finally, Wyatt sighs and his shoulders lower, the tension ebbing. I’m not going to think too hard about why I want to hold onto him being this way for a while longer. To keep him smiling, to stop the weight of stress from settling back in. We may have been lost in the forest, but somewhere along the way, I feel like I found Wyatt, and I’m not quite ready to let that go.
Linda wasn’t lying about these being the best burgers, but after days of protein bars, anything hot, cheesy, and greasy would be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. Garrett would have plenty to say about that sentence. Wyatt and I moan our way through burgers, fries, sides, and large sodas until we’re complaining about stomach aches. Totally worth it, though.
Once Linda has collected our plates, Wyatt follows her to settle the bill. He keeps me in his eyeline at all times, not that I’ll be going anywhere. I’ve never felt so full, and my ass has molded to the seat. Instead, I stare out of the nearby window, taking in the quaint little town. Residents go about their business, unaware of the outsiders whohave entered their solace and the drama that we bring. Hopefully we’ll be merely passing through without incident.
“Ready to go?” Wyatt asks when he returns. He has no right to look as good as he does in crumpled clothes, all tousled hair, and sharp green eyes. I blink a few times, slow to compute. “Linda has called the mechanic; he’s bringing a tow truck around.”
“We’re going straight back out there?!” My voice rises a few pitches. Wyatt blinks a few times, as if he thought I would jump up and follow his lead. We’ve covered a lot of ground, both physically and emotionally, but I’m still me, and me thinks I have forest PTSD. “What if the tow truck runs out of gas and we’re stranded again?”
Perhaps I’m being irrational, but Wyatt doesn’t scoff and shrug off my concern like he once would have. Instead, he exhales and nods slowly, picking at the edge of the tablecloth.
“Okay. I’ll go.”
“Really?” I ask, despite it being what I wanted. “You’re leaving me here alone?” I find myself shrinking in the booth, suddenly aware that everyone nearby can hear and see me. I don’t know anyone in this town except for Wyatt, and the thought of him leaving is like ripping away my safety blanket. And that’s exactly why he needs to go. Since when did I start seeking safety and comfort in Wyatt? Yeah, time apart is exactly what I need to get my thoughts in check.
Wyatt continues to nod, each word pulled from his lips with visible effort.
“Someone needs to show the mechanic where the SUV is. I won’t force you to come, but if you don’t mind, I’d really like it if you talk to Linda about some accommodation.” My brows raise, surprised at the request. I do need a shower and to sleep with real pillows. I just didn’t think Wyatt would consider my needs above his own desires. “And then go there and lock the door.”
I chuckle to myself. That sounds more like it. A tow truck passes by the window, honking twice. I feel each blare like juddering heartbeats, slicing through the tension radiating from Wyatt. Something is going unsaid, but I’m not quite sure what it is.
Movement shuffles at my side, presumably Wyatt leaving until a warm thigh nudges mine to shift up the bench seat. I obey, frowning as Wyatt crowds me against the window, his hand along the back of thebooth. His heat falls over me, that blanket of comfort settling once again.
“Look,” he sighs. I’m frozen in place by his other hand lightly lowering on my thigh. “I know what the likelihood of you being here when I get back is. And for what it’s worth… I’m glad you got to see a different side of me. I’ll probably have shut it down the next time we meet.”
My gaze shoots up to his green eyes. A storm of feral emotions swirls just beneath the surface. I’m hyperaware of the weight of his hand on my thigh, the way his thumb brushes absent patterns against the fabric of my sweatpants, as though trying to ground us both. His presence is all-consuming, pulling every ounce of air from my lungs.
I should push him away. I should tell him to go, to take his guarded heart, and leave before I’m in too deep. But I can’t. I’m trapped by the vulnerability etched into every line of his face, the words I’m hesitant to speak.
“What’s changed?” I breathe close to his face. “I… I thought you said I couldn’t go back.” Wyatt swallows, and I track the movement of his Adam’s apple. Tilting his head, Wyatt looks down at his hand.
“I’ve come to realise that protecting you and suffocating you are two very different things. I thought I could handle your hatred if what I was doing was the right thing. But controlling you… preventing you from being yourself… that’s not something I can live with.”
The heat radiating from his body seeps into mine, and for a fleeting moment, the world outside this diner doesn’t exist. Just us. Just Wyatt, holding me in place as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. My pulse thrums wildly, echoing the silent plea in his gaze.Stay.
“I’m not going to cage you anymore, Avery. It hasn’t served me well this far. I want to earn your trust, despite it being against my every instinct to walk away from you right now.”
“This feels a lot like a goodbye,” I whisper, hindered by vulnerability. My breath stutters as his hand tightens on my leg, the silent tether between us pulling taut. A thousand thoughts war in my head, but all I can think is,beg me to stay.And yet, I know he won’t. Wyatt will shut me out, because when emotions run too high; that’s what he does. Leaning closer, Wyatt’s lips brush my ear, the hand from the back of the booth shifting to gently hold my head.
“I wish you the best. Be safe, Angel, whatever you decide.”
