“Killian. Right on time, as usual. The cars are over there.” He handed me the keys and walked back under the shade of the garage to watch his two men load up the cars with me. I got everything in the container ready for the cars. That meant unloading my motorcycle first, so it could be put in last. I always brought my bike with me, in case I wanted to get away from the truck for a moment. My all-black 2016 Aprilia RSV4 sports bike was my other pride and joy, after my truck.
One shiny red and black Bugatti Veyron pulled up, and we loaded her up into the first spot. I worked to secure the car with straps while the men loaded up the next car. They were quick and efficient, especially great when I had a deadline.
“Nice.” I complimented the candy apple red 1954 Chevy truck before me. While I wouldn’t own cars like the one I carried across the U.S., I could still appreciate them. My 2013 Peterbilt 589 and my bike was all I ever needed. This shit Joel liked was an obsession for him. He was going to end up having his own car shows every Sunday if he kept going like this. But like Livia said, whatever makes people happy. After getting my bike back in the trailer, and double-checking that everything was secure, I climbed back up in the rig and looked at the blonde still in her seat.
“We’re going to that fuel station, and then heading out. You’ve got ten minutes to do whatever it is you want before we leave. We’ve got nine hours of driving ahead, and I don’t plan on stopping more than an hour of time combined.” I tried to get out and stretch every once in a while to keep limber. Driving for so long could fuck up your body if you didn’t treat it right.
“Okie, so no Big Gulps. Aye aye, captain.” She saluted me and once again looked happy to be sitting in the seat, ready to go on a long-ass road trip. It was odd she was so relaxed in the cab, especially with a stranger, and being easy with the rules. I had expected her to give me shit.
She jumped out of the truck as soon as I turned the engine off and strolled inside of the fuel station.
I’d fill my tank up the rest of the way, piss, and then grab the pack of Twizzlers I won from myself on my bet. Then I prayed to the truck gods that this woman didn’t make me want to drive off a bridge before I finished my job.
Chapter Three
Livia
We’d been on the road for a little over an hour. I’d stocked up on my road trip goodies back at the fuel station, so I was good for a while. One bottle of water, a Surge soda, gummy worms, and beef jerky. It was what I always got when I hit the road, except when I put petal to the metal getting out of Sarasota, my home town. I was too anxious to remember to get my goodies, and I forgot all about them. A travesty, but I had them now. My grumpy driver had stayed silent, apparently content to listen to the satellite radio, a station that played everything from the ’90s and older. I didn’t mind. I was very eclectic when it came to music, so I just ate my gummies and subtly wiggled my body to the beat.
Lemarque paid no mind to me at all, which I guess wasn’t a bad thing since I was sneaking peeks at him while he chewed on a Twizzler. His lips would wrap around that little licorice rope, and then his oh-so-white teeth would bite down, severing the piece in his mouth from the rope in his fingers. Now, I’ve never found someone eating a Twizzler to be sexy before, but something about how much time he took with each piece made my lower regions tingle with every bite. His tongue would snake out occasionally, and all I could think about was his tongue on me, licking my neck with open mouth kisses and little love nips with his teeth.
As soon as he decided he was done with his candy, he set the remaining ropes in the package on the dash. A little groan of disappointment flew from my chest before I knew what happened. When he looked at me to see what the hell noise came from me, I felt my cheeks flush red.
Oh, boy. Maybe getting in a truck with a young, hot guy was not a good idea. I turned my head and looked out the window. We were still in Florida, but it was different than where I lived in the southwestern region. This part had hills, and pretty oak trees.
Knowing I needed to address my thoughts, I chewed on a gummy worm, and decided right then and there that I was just reacting to him since it had been two months since I last had sex. I’d sworn off sex recently anyway, so getting all hot and bothered watching my “roommate” eat Twizzlers was dumb. And that was the other thing: I was going to be sharing a small space with him; there was no room for any shenanigans in that time frame. I had one goal, to figure my shit out. I needed space and time to figure out what I wanted out of life, a little soul-searching along the way. No room for men, or anything else, to complicate my already shattered life.
Wanting a distraction, I bent down to open my bag and found my sketch book. It had been so long since I touched these pages. Lane, my ex-fiancé, didn’t like the noises the pencil made against the paper, and he didn’t like it when my fingers turned black from smudging. He was all about image and stature. His family was all lawyers, the country club type of people. They didn’t like me much, but I still tried.
My fingers ran over the paper, remembering how much I had loved to sketch. My smile grew, realizing I was completely free. I could do whatever the hell I wanted. I grabbed my little case of pencils and vowed right then and there that I would sketch every day. Anything I could draw, I would. My head dismissed the man sitting next to me and focused back on finding my own happiness in life. We rode in silence while I drew a little fairy that Lemarque had sitting on his dash. I found it odd at first, but didn’t want to ask him about it. He would probably just huff, anyway. Not very loquacious, that man. The fairy was cute, with blue wings, and silver hair. She was sitting on a rock, looking off towards the road ahead of us, enjoying her journey. Something about her made me interested in drawing her, paying extra attention to her wings. They were so beautiful, like a butterfly. I bet if she were real, she would be flying around just to watch her wings in the wind. It’s what I would do.
We kept driving for about four hours before he pulled off the highway and found a parking lot to take a short break. He was quiet as he moved to the back sleeper section of the truck and opened a small fridge, pulling out a little container and some veggies. He got to work on making what looked like chicken wraps, then handed me a plate with one on it.
“Lunch,” he muttered, and I accepted it hungrily. I was excited.
“Thanks! I appreciate you sharing all your stuff with me.” I smiled, hoping he would see the gratitude on my face. He just looked at me, and I got the feeling maybe he would say something else, but he didn’t. He nodded and took a bite of his food. The exchange made me feel slightly awkward, so I turned back around in my seat and ate my food. One minute I think this was a great idea, then the next I’m wondering who hit me upside the head to make me think of this crazy plan.
The silence was starting to bug me a little, so as soon as I was done, I told him I was going to go pee and stretch a little. The air was a little cooler once I stepped onto the ground; my arms wrapped themselves around my waist.
We were in a Target parking lot, so I could easily amuse myself here. He gave me a thirty-minute timeline so I could pee, walk around a bit, maybe buy a thicker jacket since we might be traveling to cooler areas, and do some stretching. I did like to keep things loose, especially since I would be in a truck the majority of a month.
With my two small bags in my hands I walked back to the truck fifteen minutes later and about stumbled.
Lemarque was doing yoga outside his truck. Like, he was doing an up dog, and hell, did he look good! I was more impressed that he was actually doing it right, with good form, too. He must do this regularly. He stood just before my boots signaled my arrival, stretching his arms above his head.
“Ready to go?” he asked gruffly, and I raised my two bags in the air.
“Yep, I got things I thought I’d need.” I smiled, but he just looked at the bags then walked to his side of the truck. My smile drooped slightly. This grumpy shit was going to need a slight curve if we were going to be stuck in a truck together. We could be civil, right? Have conversations and stuff. Not anything crazy, of course I didn’t want to dive into my shit storm of a life, and I had a feeling I didn’t want to hear his story either. But a little small talk never hurt anybody.
I crawled up into my seat and set my bags down, preparing myself to break the silence between us once we were back on the highway. Turning in my seat, I noticed his body looked a little tense, almost like he knew I was about to unload on him.
“So, I’m just going to come out and say it: This is going to be a long month if we are going to be silent, and you’re going to stay all grumpy over there.” He looked at me, his face expressionless.
“I’m not asking for you to smile and talk for hours, but maybe a little here, a little there? You know, like...” I tried to come up with an idea to help this sort of awkward moment. I looked around, and then it hit me.
“We could play ‘twenty-one questions’ once a day. And that’s it. I mean, considering how much we are going to be together, that isn’t so bad, right? You don’t have to get all your questions out at once, either. We can do some in the morning, some at lunch, etcetera.” I felt like a genius, coming up with that idea. Even a lone feral wolf like him would be okay with that, right? Mentally I patted myself on the back and waited to see what he said, my eyes pleading with him to just give in.
“Fine.” He relented, and I did a little dance in my seat. He watched me do it, and the look on his face said he was instantly regretting his agreement.Too late now, fucker!
