I pressed my eyes closed and two tears fell down my cheeks. “I will. Thanks.”
As soon as I ended the call, I forgot that I hadn’t yet finished my bed bug hunt, and let myself fall back. I lay there for a long time, studying the shadows on the ceiling, and letting every unshed tear fall until I felt empty enough to sleep.
* * * *
Sunshine peeking through the tattered blinds woke me the next morning, and as I struggled to sit up, I realized I was still wearing all my wet clothes from the night before. I’d fallen asleep before changing, showering, or calling Cooper…
Shit.
I stumbled from the bed and tore out of all my—now just damp—clothes and took a scalding shower, hoping the temperature of the water would kill off any fungus or bacteria lurking in the corners of the old shower stall. I scrubbed frantically at my tangled hair, unknotting it as I worked the conditioner through each section. My hair was unruly on the best of days, but after being plastered in a helmet for several hours and then slept on soaking wet and windblown, it was in rare form. When I finally got free from hair hell, I lathered up the rest, rubbing my tired legs with extra attention, knowing it was only going to get worse. I needed to put in another ten plus hours and I didn’t want to have to stop and spend another night in a motel.
It was going to be the longest day of my life.
When I got out of the shower, my phone was chirping at me and I swallowed a lump in my throat, knowing—without even looking— Cooper was on the other end of the line. And he wasn’t going to be in a good mood. I grabbed the phone on the last ring and reluctantly pressed it to my ear. “Hi.”
Without preamble, the voice on the other line snapped, “Where the hell are you?”
I pressed my eyes closed, hating the sound of panic in his voice, knowing I was the one responsible for putting it there. “Cooper, I’m sorry I couldn’t call last night. My phone died and I got stranded at this motel to wait out the shitty weather.”
My explanation was met with cold silence. I sat down on the bed and absentmindedly continued massaging my legs. “Cooper?”
“I’m here,” he growled.
The man cou
ld brood better than anyone I’d ever met before, a trait I somehow found alluring and infuriating—usually at the same time. I sighed. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I said I’m sorry, and I am. I’m safe, just a little waterlogged.” I went to the window and looked out over the parking lot, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of Cherry Bomb. “I’m leaving as soon as I get some breakfast and coffee.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to book you a flight?” Cooper asked, his voice releasing the sharp edge.
I smiled. “I’m sure. I talked to my brother last night and my dad is still in recovery, but it sounds like the surgery went well. I should be able to get to the hospital late tonight if I ride all day, and before you interrupt me—” I said, giving just enough force to my voice to make him listen, “—I’ll stop when I need to rest and I won’t do anything stupid. I know my limits, okay?”
“I know you do,” he finally admitted. After everything Cooper and I had gone through, there were two things I knew he knew about me. Number one being I’m a survivor who will always find a way to make it work. And two, I’m too stubborn to back down once I’ve started down a path. “I miss you.”
Even with all the chaos between getting the call and the long, stressful ride, Cooper had never been far from my mind. Hearing him tell me I was missed, made me miss him even more and my heart twisted at his sweet confession. “I miss you too.”
I clicked off the call and hurried to get dressed before wading up my wet clothes and stuffing them to the bottom of my backpack. Luckily, I’d managed to get my jacket dry since I’d set it by the radiator before passing out, and as I shrugged into the warm, soft leather I instantly felt prepared to go out and continue the ride.
“Leaving so soon?” Paul asked as I strode through the door of the lobby. He was leaning against the desk, shoveling generous bites of pie into his mouth. A smile quirked my lips, knowing it was likely a gift from a certain female admirer at the diner. “Check out isn’t until ten, ya know.”
I set the room key on the counter. “Yeah. I know but there’s somewhere I gotta be.”
Paul set down his fork and swiped the key from the counter. “Well you be careful out there. The weather’s supposed to turn on us again.”
I glanced over my shoulder and out the glass doors. The sky was still waking up, but looked calm. Not that it mattered—I couldn’t sit around another day waiting out a storm. The phone call with Ben had gone a long way towards consoling me, but I needed to see my dad with my own eyes before I would fully be able to relax.
“I will. Thanks again,” I said.
Paul gave me his signature head nod as he handed me my receipt. I pivoted on my heel, ready to leave, but shot back one last glance, flicking my gaze to the half eaten piece of pie, and told Paul, “Ask her out to dinner. She’ll say yes.”
Paul’s mouth opened slightly as he reeled for a response, but I just flashed a smile and pushed out the double doors.
Chapter Eight — Allie
Unfortunately, Paul’s warning hadn’t been in vain. The rain started dumping on me less than three hours into my ride. I pushed through, thankful it was daylight and the rain didn’t have such a bone chilling effect on me, as I plowed over miles and miles of highway. The rain slowed my pace and squeezed out every drop of energy I had left in my body.
I reluctantly stopped in Colorado to take a three hour nap at a Best Western. When I woke up, I forced my tired and aching muscles back onto Cherry Bomb to finish the trip. I was ready to collapse, but clung to my bike with my weak legs, and let out a whooping holler to the sky as I crossed the state line into Kansas.
I ignored the temptation to go to my parents’ house to shower and change, and went straight to the hospital instead. My parents’ house sat about a half an hour outside the main city limits. I winced, thinking of how my mom must have felt, speeding towards the hospital once she got the call about the accident. That had to have been the longest car ride of her life…I hated myself for not being there.