The Road That Leads to Us (Us 1)

My blood roared in my ears.

Oh, shit.

Suddenly her body was wrapped around mine like a damn boa constrictor. Her arm fell across my stomach, her head landed on my chest, and she tangled her legs with mine.

Her hair tickled my nose and I swallowed thickly.

I’d thought the idea of me falling asleep and ending up snuggled against her was the worst thing imaginable.

I was wrong, because this was so, so much worse.

I definitely wouldn’t be falling asleep tonight.

Willow

I woke feeling refreshed and having slept better than I had in a while.

Dean wasn’t in the bed, but I could hear him in the bathroom brushing his teeth.

I sat up and stretched my arms above my head. I sighed in satisfaction.

Dean stepped out of the bathroom already dressed in a pair of jeans and a shirt that said: NERD? I PREFER THE TERM “MORE INTELLIGENT THAN YOU”

I shook my head at his shirt and lifted my eyes to his face. He was freshly shaved and his hair was damp, curling at the ends, but what worried me were the dark purple shadows beneath his eyes that were barely concealed behind the black-framed glasses he wore.

“Dean,” I said softly, “did you get any sleep?”

His face wrinkled in puzzlement. “Yeah, of course.”

“Dean,” I said his name again with worry and reached for his arm, “are you going to be okay to drive today?”

He shook off my hold and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m fine, Will.” The words came out short and biting, which was unusual for Dean. He didn’t get snappy.

He walked away from me and sat on the bed, rifling through his bag on the floor.

I felt like I’d been dismissed and I didn’t like that one bit.

Normally, I would’ve pestered him about his behavior but something kept me quiet.

I grabbed my bag and shut myself into the bathroom, refusing to analyze his strange behavior.

I chalked it up to the fact that he was a boy.

Boys were dumb.

***

We gathered our bags and loaded the car before sitting down in the dining room of the Bed and Breakfast to eat. Other guests were there too, and I found myself taken with the wild stories of the older gentleman beside me.

Dean was still being a moody little jerk so I wasn’t speaking to him at the moment.

“Oh, the things I did when I was young,” the man, whose name was Oscar, said, “you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Tell me about it,” I pleaded, taking a large bite of egg. The food was delicious and reminded me of home.

“My friends and I used to sneak out to the water tower and climb up it. Get so drunk we couldn’t walk straight and then we’d have to climb back down,” he chortled.

“Did anyone ever die?” I asked seriously, because let’s face it, that was a realistic possibility.