Amira must notice the change in my expression because she drops the phone in her lap and gives me a funny look.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just, I ah… met her too. The night we saw Sage at the club.”
Amira’s eyes linger on the side of my face before momentarily dropping her gaze to her lap. “Oh. Um, did she… did you…”
“No.” I don’t know what she’s trying to ask, but the answer is no anyway. She didn’t do shit, and I didn’t do shit. I would never.
I can’t turn to look at her because I’m currently in between two semis, but I reach over and take her hand, bringing her fingertips to my lips so I can kiss each pad.
“She’s prettier than me… I could never compete with someone who looks like her,” she says, pulling her hand away from my lips, fiddling with the flap of skin hanging off the side of her nail.
“There’s no fucking competition, baby. Eden can’t compete where she doesn’t compare, and angel, no one even comes close to you.”
Amira does her best to hide it, sticking her face on the ball of her shoulder, hair concealing the majority of her face. But I can see it, the glow radiating off her skin as a smile splits her lips.
Tommy’s method to getting girls was always to be a dick.
“What girl doesn’t fall for the asshole?”he would say right before going off to meet a different girl than the night before. It always seemed to work for him, but me? I couldn’t imagine playing that stupid fucking game with Amira. Not then, and sure as shit, not now. Not when I have these smiles to look forward to.
“I’m serious, Amira… no one even comes fucking close.”
“You either… I’ve never felt for someone anything close to what I feel for you, and I knew the minute I saw you walking to my house, a little ways behind Tommy and Liam, that I would never look at someone the way I looked at you.”
I wonder if she knows I looked at her the same way?
There’s ownership to those words, a claim she’s staked on me ever since we were kids, and fuck me if that doesn’t send the blood rushing from my head to my dick.
To know I’ve always been owned by Amira Lupo?
Shit…
I’m the only fucking one who will ever be able to say that, and I’ll wear that badge of honor on my fucking chest proudly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ROMAN
Thursday
March 25, 2021
Idon’t think I’ve ever been more tired than I am right fucking now. Why we thought it would be a good idea to drive straight through Utah and into Nevada with no damn stops is fucking beyond me.
We’re well past grumpy and can barely utter a word to each other without sounding like we’re trying to rip each other’s heads off.
We’re going on almost eighteen hours with no sleep; our bladders are full, and we tore through the food halfway through the ride. I’m fucking high on berry-flavored energy, and I can’t stop my leg from shaking the entire fucking car.
Much to Amira’s annoyance.
“Are we almost there?” she grumbles, softly banging her head against the door while wrapping a strand of hair tightly around her finger.
We have another ten minutes before we reach our next stop. The Oak Motel; it’s cheap, secluded, and doesn’t check ID.
I think Amira is becoming a pro at finding places to stay.
Hopefully, that skill isn’t needed after this.
