“What is your favorite color?” I’d start off simple, ease him into the experience.
“Blue,” he stated, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. Blue. Well, his truck was blue, so that made sense. Keeping myself turned towards him, I waited for my question.
“Your turn.” I tried nudging him along.
“What is your favorite color?” So original, that man.
“Green. It’s a soothing color, I think, but the more vibrant shades can make you feel energetic.” I smiled to myself as he stared at the road like he wanted to throw himself in front of his own moving truck. It made me feel like screwing with him further, to see how far I could push him. Getting reactions out of someone was a guilty pleasure. I loved to do it, even if I would get yelled at or smacked on the arm in return. But if I saw something in someone that made me feel the need to do it, then that sealed our relationship. I loved to joke with people, rile them up. Lane never got that about me. I shook my head away from that thought.You’re not with Lane anymore, Livia.
Time for question two.
Chapter Four
Livia
Iasked him what his favorite food was—it was pizza. Then he asked me the same. Tacos, of course. It was like hanging out with a parrot, but it was progress, and I would accept that for now. After another five questions about insignificant things, he said he would hold off for more questions later. So I went back to drawing more details on the little fairy. I felt the truck move onto an off-ramp and looked up. It was getting dark, and the clock said 8:00 p.m. Man, after our little questionnaire, time had flown by.
“Stopping for the night?” I asked. He nodded in affirmation. The truck came to a stop in a parking spot, in line with other trucks, at a rest stop. Cool. There were bathrooms and snacks, and if I was feeling brave, I could walk around.
“Where are we?” I looked around for a sign, but we must have passed it already.
“Thirty-eight miles past Baton Rouge.” He stretched and stood to go into the sleeper section.
“Oh, cool.” I’d never been to Louisiana.
“What is the plan when we wake up?” Normally I liked to know a little more detail about what I’m doing, but this trip was different than all my others, so I was winging it.
“Drive for another eleven hours or so, sleep. Drive the rest of the way to San Diego. Stay for a day.” He fiddled with a few things then hopped out of the truck.
Well, okay then. We had a busy schedule ahead of us, so sleep really would be good for me to have. First I would pee and get ready for bed. I packed my Kindle and the charger in my bag, so I would probably read for a little bit before passing out.
After peeing, I hopped back into the truck and my eyes bugged out of my head. Lemarque had just pulled his shirt over his head.
Cheese and crackers, he was hot.
His torso was all defined muscle. I don’t know when he found the time to work out with so much time on the road, but holy shit, he had it going on! My fingers itched to touch his pecs and the small, flat nipples, before following the lines of his abdomen, and then finally tracing that V that led beneath a pair of gray sweatpants.
His head snapped my way after hearing the door open and close. Our eyes met for a minute, which made me blush, knowing I’d been caught staring at him. For a moment there I thought maybe this moment would change him, and I would see a flirty, fun side to him. But he just turned his body around and grabbed another shirt to put on for bed.
My hand flew to my mouth when my eyes focused on what was on his back. His strong back was covered in scars. Like he had been in a fire, but it only got his back. What happened to him? Now those same fingers that wanted to feel him up earlier wanted to curl themselves around him and comfort him. I can’t even imagine how painful that must have been.
“Before you go there, or try to—I’m not talking about it. Only hurts when I stiffen up; I do yoga for it. Looks like shit. But I’m fine.” He answered all the questions that were running through my head. Still, once I had those answers, it didn’t make me feel any better. I wanted to hug him, and let him know I was there if he needed to talk. But this was the silent grumpster I was talking to...he probably wouldn’t give up information if someone tortured him. As soon as the thought hit, I prayed that wasn’t what happened. I had a wild imagination, so him being tortured for secret trucker info wasn’t far off the map in my head.
“Okay.” Somehow I managed to get that out, and he seemed satisfied.
“Food’s in the fridge. Make whatever you want. We’ll stock up in San Diego. I’m gonna pass out. We’ll rise early. Keep the TV on low if you wanna watch something.” He sat on his bed and looked at me. He already had the top bunk sleeper down, and had a blanket on it. That’ll work.
“Thanks.” After my one-word reply, he lay down and closed his eyes. I grabbed my sleeping shirt and pants then crawled up onto the bunk. It was slightly narrow, but I was a small girl, so it would fit me fine. The bottom bunk was a slightly bigger size, but he definitely needed more space than I. Quickly, I changed into my bed clothes and snuggled into the blanket.
“Night, Lemarque,” I whispered into the dimmed truck.
“Killian.” His voice was hoarse, like he was teetering on the edge of sleep already.
“What?” I was confused.
“My name is Killian Lemarque.”
“Goodnight, Killian.”
