EVER
I prepare for the long drive with my hands clasped in my lap. It’s quiet as we drive out of the neighborhood and pass by the campus.
The parking lots are empty, and a few students are going in and out of the library. Bobby hasn’t turned on the music. That was the first thing Carlos did. I stare out the passenger-side window and sneak peeks at Bobby. The silence is comfortable, and he’s smiling.
I reach inside my little bag for my lip gloss, put some on, and press my lips together. My throat is dry. It’s sunny out, it’s cool in the truck, and I forgot my water bottle on the kitchen counter in my rush to get to the door, excited to see Bobby again.
“Temperature good?”
“Yes, thank you.” I put away my lip gloss and stare ahead. I’m parched. “I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?” I fidget with my bag’s zipper.
“By changing the day of my arrival?”
“Yes.”
“It’s all good, Ever. I texted my host. I’m fine with skipping out on a hunting party.”
“Hunting party? Like for wildlife?”
“Nah, baby.” He takes my hand from the zipper and kisses my fingertips. “It’s like a game of paintball, but instead of paintball guns, we use knives and arrows.”
“What?!” I sit up straight in my seat. “What kind of business meetings are these?”
He chuckles. “The kind with high stakes.”
I snort. “Would you like me to tag along? I’ll be the villain of your story.”
“A man doesn’t need a woman to burn the world for him. It’s the other way around.”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“I am.”
“What if you’re in a life-or-death situation?”
“One, I wouldn’t make that mistake. Two, if I did, that’s on me and I’ll get myself out of it.”
“You are not an island, Bobby. None of us are.”
“We’re not talking about asking others for help. We’re discussing how it’s the man’s job to rescue his woman. I wouldn’t want you in harm’s way. Promise you won’t come between me and a dangerous situation. Let me handle it. Let me be the villain, Ever.”
How can he ask that of me? If I have a chance to save him, I will. Forget his male ego.
“Ever.”
I inhale a deep breath and exhale before I answer. I am not happy with where this conversation is taking us. “It’s all about your male ego, isn’t it?”
“It’s about keeping you safe.”
“If you . . .” My throat tightens. Tears prickle the corners of my eyes. “If you’re—” I wave my hand. “If you’re gone and I could’ve done something to stop it, I’d never forgive myself.”
“Aw, baby, it won’t come to that.”
He’s avoiding using the word never.
“Promise me?” I dab at my eyes with my knuckles. Why does this man have me close to tears more than anyone has since Carlos’s death? I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
“I can’t make that promise.”
