“How incredibly selfless of him,” I mutter.
“As far as I’m concerned, you all owe me.” He wrenches the wheel, kicking up dust as the tires hit the highway’s shoulder. Our headlights close in on a handful of cars in a gravel parking lot. A neon light flickers in the window of the low wooden building behind it.
“Why are we stopping?” I ask.
“Because I’m hungry and my ass is asleep. And after three hours suffering in the back seat with you, I could really use a drink. If you don’t like it, you can fight me.”
He swings the sedan into a parking spot, bringing us to an abrupt halt that sets my shoulder throbbing and jolts Fleur awake. He jerks the keys from the ignition and gets out before any of us can argue, shoving them deep into the front pocket of his jeans as he saunters to the bar.
Amber’s jaw drops. She chokes out a nervous laugh, pushes open her door, and follows him. Warm woody light and the bittersweet smell of whiskey and cheap beer pour out of the bar as Julio holds open the door for her. The car falls dim and silent as they disappear inside.
“Where are we?” Fleur asks, pushing herself up. Her hair’s tousled from sleep, the pink tangles catching the headlights of the cars rushing past us on the highway.
“Don’t know, exactly.” Her lips are pouty and full, her hands hot on my chest, easing the pain in my shoulder. “Looks like we’re stuck here.”
The engine ticks as it cools. I take her cheek in my hand, rub away a spot of my blood that’s dried there. I can’t stop thinking about last night. How badly I wanted to kiss her by the fire. I run my fingers through her hair and draw her toward me. The seat creaks as she leans into me, her mouth soft, her fingers grazing my ribs, making my skin tighten with goose bumps as our kiss deepens. My hands move down her back, my nails digging into the seams around the pockets of her jeans.
“Jack,” she whispers. The breathless sound of my name on her lips slays me. “Jack, I really have to pee.”
I feel her smile. Feel my own spread wide across my face. She reachesdown and starts buttoning up Julio’s shirt, and I’m pretty sure this is the most painful way she’s ever killed me. I thunk my head back against the window, willing my heart to slow and my body to chill before I have to stand up and go inside.
A fist bangs the window behind me, and we both jump out of our skins.
“Hurry up, Sommers. You owe me. That means you’re buying.”
Fleur and I nearly spill out of the car as Julio yanks open the door. He looks down at Fleur, sprawled on top of me, with his mouth agape. Fleur turns a shade of red I’ve never seen her wear before. She climbs over me, awakening the pain in my shoulder, calls Julio a name that gives me a newfound admiration for her, and strides off into the bar.
I feel every bit of my fifty years as I extricate my stiff limbs from the back seat. Julio offers me a hand, a hint of liquor already on his breath. My shoulder groans when he pulls me upright, and I adjust his shirt to cover the bloodstained bandage underneath.
I pause beside the car, trying to figure out how to say what needs to be said. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For coming back for me.” He didn’t have to. He and Amber could have taken Fleur and the car and hauled ass off that mountain, never once looking back. When the shot rang out and I went down, I wasn’t afraid of the pain. I was terrified of the possibility no one would come. That they would leave me to die there alone.
He shrugs off my gratitude like a jacket that doesn’t fit. “Whatever. You did the same for me, right?”
A chill wind slices through the parking lot. He turns and heads forthe bar, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders hunched. I start to follow him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see soemthing move—a shadow in the dark. I turn to catch it, but the parking lot is empty. All I smell are diesel fumes and dust.
Julio holds open the door. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” I say, dismissing the wisp of doubt in the back of my mind that it’s colder here than it should be. “I’m coming.”
I follow Julio inside, into the dim light and the clink of glasses. There’s no bouncer. Nobody carding at the door. The lone bartender barely acknowledges us. A handful of old men sit around the bar, staring down at their drinks or up at the evening news on the muted TV behind it with weathered, tired faces. The place is warm, musty, and drowsy, the air sweet with hops. Maybe Julio’s right, and I’m worrying for nothing.
I follow him to a lone pool table in the back where Fleur and Amber have already racked the balls, ready to play. He downs a quick shot of bourbon from their table. Chases it with a swig of beer.
“Keys.” Fleur waits as Julio fishes the car keys from his pocket.
“Doubles?” He drops them into her hand. She tosses them to me. Guess I owe everybody. I just became the designated driver.
“Not this time,” Amber says, lining up her break. She slams the cue, scattering balls and sinking two. We watch her run the table for her next three shots while Julio finishes his beer. Fleur chalks a stick, ready for a turn.
I drag Julio with me to the bar. “I’m starving. Let’s find something to eat.” The bartender takes his time with the patrons he knows by name. He scrutinizes us as he pours everyone else’s beers from the tap,probably trying to guess our ages. I help myself to a peeling laminated menu from a stack tucked under a napkin holder.
“Do you want a club sandwich or a burger?” I ask.
Julio’s distracted. He leans on his elbows, watching Amber and Fleur play. When the bartender finally comes around, I order four burgers and two plates of fries, a soda for me and a beer for Julio. The bartender makes me pay for the food up front, only sliding me our drinks after I lay cash, along with an overly generous tip, on the bar. Julio reaches for the beer, watching Amber sink another shot.
