Or, more accurately, Colter had. Since he’d been the one talking to Jack when I’d come out of my room, ready to head over to the clubhouse to get on the road.
I meant to be a bitch to him. I’d given it a valiant try for the first hour or so of the day.
But the damn guy just never rose to the bait.
Which was in stark contrast to the man who had another man by the throat and would seriously have killed him if I hadn’t stepped in.
“I’m good,” Colter said, handing me a coffee. “Black, three of those yellow packets,” he said, answering the question in my eyes.
I’d never even told him that. He’d just seen me get it when we’d stopped at the gas station in Shady Valley to fuel up and we’d gone inside for road snacks.
“Yeah,” I said, taking it. Then, a little lower, “Thanks.”
“The yellow shit doesn’t raise blood glucose, right?” he asked.
Had he… been researching diabetes?
Because of me?
And if so, how did I feel about that?
Seen, a little voice said.Understood.
“Yeah. I used to like my coffee regular. But I learned to like it black with the packets. I figure, eventually, I won’t even remember what it used to taste like.”
“It’s good that you can keep some of life’s simple pleasures without having to inject.”
“Yeah. Hence this,” I said, reaching over to where he had a diet soda tucked in the crook of his arm. It was all I’d asked for.But the coffee was welcome. As was the little container of precut apples and peanut butter dipping sauce he’d grabbed.
Seeing me eyeing it, he handed it over. “Figured we wouldn’t be stopping now, and we’ll be running past dinner time.”
“Thanks.”
“You can’t have my pistachios,” he said, shaking the snack-sized bag.
“Wanna bet?” I asked.
“Fine, I’ll share.”
“You give in easily.”
“You’re hard to say no to.”
The second it was out of his mouth, we both knew it was the exact wrong thing to say.
Because over the last few hours of being stuck in a small cabin together, we’d come to a truce. We’d even chatted casually here and there when I wasn’t napping or singing along with the radio.
But that comment just brought it all back.
Unexpectedly, the sting of the rejection felt just as sharp as it had when it first happened.
“Dylan…”
“Let’s go then. I want to get to my hotel room,” I said, turning and walking back toward the passenger side of the truck.
Syn was just making his way back from taking Sugar for a walk to stretch out both their legs.
“Thanks,” I said, having done the first two walks alone with her.
