Instead, Lucy is driving at a snail’s pace, which she constantly reminds me is not normal for her. She’s only going slow because my motorcycle is in the back of the truck, I’m injured, and this is a new route for her.
I’m glad she’s going slow. I won’t lie and say I feel easy about her driving my truck, especially because my precious bike is on board.
Music plays softly in the background but not too loud because I’m still fighting off a headache from getting hit in the head with a cast iron skillet simply because I had worked myself up into a fuss thinking something was wrong with Lucy.
The reality?
She’s apparently not a morning person, went to bed too late from writing, and forgot to charge her phone.
All very innocent.
Or not.
I’m the one with a bruised nose and newly developing raccoon eyes. She only has a weight of guilt and now has to drive us.
“We have about four more hours to go. Do you need to stop for a bathroom break or anything before we pass this next exit?” Her eyes flit from her GPS to the road as I lean against the passenger window, my head on a pillow and my gaze tuned into her.
“I’m good for now. There’s a diner about an hour away if you want to stop there for food.”
“That sounds nice,” she responds quietly. Then she adds, “I truly am very sorry. I wish there was a better way to apologize.”
“It’s okay, Lucy. I’ve broken my nose before, which is worse than only having it injured and bruised. I’ll survive. I understand you were frightened, and well, I’m glad you can defend yourself. That’s a good thing.”
She breathes out heavily and a smile pulls at the edges of her pink lips.
“But for heaven’s sake, please charge your phone at night so something like this doesn’t happen again.”
“Right,” she says with a sharp nod, her timid smile blossoming into something full and bright. I can’t help the way I smile in return, though it seriously hurts.
The sound of soft country music fills the silence as I look Lucy over. She’s wearing a flowy, long floral skirt that sits above her belly button, a peek of pale skin showing between the edge of the skirt and the start of her long-sleeved white, buttoned crop top. Her hair is thrown into a top-knot with only her cute bangs tamed. Flyaways and little hairs poke out around her head, but instead of looking messy, she looks wild and fierce. Like a lion.
The image of her hovering above me when I first opened my eyes reappears, and I fight off a snicker.
“So, my little lion, should we get our history straight?”
“Huh?” she says, knitting her eyebrows together as she focuses on the road. “What history?”
I’m surprised she didn’t question my newly found nickname for her. It’s honestly kind of a let down. I like when she gets heated and feisty. Like a little lion.
“Our dating history. Off the top of my head, I suggest we’ve been dating since April, I asked you out, and you’re hopelessly in love with me.”
She snorts, ripping her eyes from the road and turning the amused expression my way before she snaps her attention back to driving. She’s laughing as she says, “April sounds good. Yes, you did ask me out… over and over again. Since February, actually. And I finally said yes in April to try and get you off my case. Turns out you weren’t as bad as I had you pegged to be, and I fell for you. But just as I am hopelessly in love with you, you are smitten with me. So much so that you would destroy galaxies and wipe out civilizations in my honor.”
The rumble of the road beneath the truck tires accompanies a soft and slow country love song. I blink, staring with amazement at Lucy, wondering about who she is down to the strands of DNA that make up her person.
“I’m sorry. That was too much. You are simply smitten with me,” she says in a quiet voice, her demeanor becoming tight and rigid. I have the sudden urge to take her hand in mine and reassure her of… whatever she needs right now, but she’s driving, and well, I don’t think I’ve earned that privilege yet. I may be a tease and hopeless flirt, but I do respect physical boundaries.
At least while we are alone and not playing pretend for people.
“I like it,” I beam. “It fits my character: bold, relentless, and sumptuous. Lucy May, while you are my fake girlfriend, I will be entirely smitten with you. So much so that I will go all Thanos on the universe if it so muchas offends you.”
I watch her stiffened shoulders relax an inch and her knuckles loosen on the steering wheel as she breaks out in a grin.
Narrowing my eyes as if to evaluate her, I ask, “Did you think I would be taken aback by you suggesting I become the morally gray hero of your story while we pretend to date?”
She chuckles nervously but then breathes a sigh of release. “A little, I guess. I got caught up in setting the tone of your epic love story that Romance Writer Brain took over. Don’t worry. I know it’s not realistic as I’ve been told before. And I do not expect you to avenge my honor. Instead, let’s talk about how my younger man knows big words like sumptuous.”
“It could be,” I state plainly, ignoring her comment about my age and word usage so that unwanted memories don’t resurface. I may look like an athletic meathead, but there’s much more to me than that. Like the fact that I read often. She looks at me, a perplexed expression crossing her face. “To clarify, if some man so much as looks at you wrong while you are dating me, even if our relationship is pretend, he’s got another thing coming for him. No one toys with a girl when she’s with me. She’s only mine to play with.” I wink for good measure, but then the truck bounces, accompanied by a loud rumbling sound. My heart picks up as I realize she’s running us off the road. Lucy yanks her attention (and the wheel) back onto the road. I let out a deep breath. “Eyes on the road, or there will be no play time for you, Little Lion.”
