He's sad, too.
It just pops into my head. I can't put my finger on why I've come to that conclusion, but I know it's true. I don't know why the handsome giant I almost ran over is sad, but I can feel it.I can see it in those green eyes; they look heavy, and maybe a little glazed over, like he's been drinking.
A horn blares, and I realize the light has turned green. Gesturing an apology to the truck behind me, I get back into the car. The truck pulls around me, still laying on the horn, before I can get my seatbelt buckled.
"Um, okay," I say, cancelling the route on my GPS. "Where do you want me to take you?"
I turn to him, waiting for an address, but instead, he says, "Just go straight here. I'll tell you when to turn."
And then Ismellthat he's been drinking. I nod and put the car in drive.
"I'm Elias, by the way."
"Saige."
"Watch for stoplights and pedestrians."
"Yeah, I got it. Thanks."
"Where are you from?" he asks.
I could tell him that I'm moving here—that I'm starting at Aurora Cove on Monday, but I don't. I don't know where the instinct to lie comes from, but that's what I do. "I'm from Vancouver. I'm just here visiting my mom."
Elias's dog climbs onto the center console and licks my face. "Arcadia, no," he says, pulling her back and hugging her to his chest. "Don't get mad at her. She's just a baby; she doesn't know better."
A pretty big fucking baby, I think. "I'm not mad."
"What were you doing in here? Just fucking crying?"
"Um, yeah," I tell him. "Pretty much."
"Well, Saige, life is terrible, and everyone will disappoint you, eventually. Might as well get used to it."
I know."I don't want to get used to it."
Elias shrugs, pulling a flask from his pocket. "Your choice. It feels better once you do, though." He takes a swig before holding it out to me. "Want some?"
"What? No. I'mdriving."
"Smart," he says, gesturing toward his arm. "Smarter than me, apparently. Turn here."
We continue down this second road in silence for quite a while, past where downtown evaporates into neighborhoods and then into forest with houses few and far between. "You said it was close. How much further—"
"Slow down," he says. "It's coming up on the left."
"What is?" I ask, surrounded by nothing but trees and darkness.
"There!"
I hit the brakes and make a sharp left turn, realizing I'm driving on gravel, not an actual paved road, into the forest.
His house must be back here. "Is this your driveway?"
"It's my hiding spot," he answers.
Suddenly, I feel nervous again.
The gravel drive ends at what appears to be the remnants of a burnt-down, dilapidated cabin. I put the car in park, and he opens the passenger door. "Well, Paige…"
