“Uh, well let’s see. For starters, you hate me.”
My mouth goes dry. I definitely don’t hate her. “No, I don’t.”
She smirks. “Yes. You do.”
I start grabbing random shit. I’m over trying to do things organized and with her wanting to argue with me every step of the way. I’m not leaving her here. “Look, we don’t have time for this. Pack whatever you need for the next few days. You’re coming with me, and that’s that.” She’s about to argue. I can see it in her face. I stand up and move toward her until our faces are inches apart. I stare into her big green eyes and tell her as plainly as I can, “I don’t hate you. I’m an asshole, I know. But there’s reasons I am the way I am. I’m not making excuses or anything; it is what it is. But regardless of what you think about me or I think about you, I literally can’t leave you here, so if you’re dead set on staying, then I’m staying too.”
She opens her mouth and closes it again. I’m staring at her lips, thinking how easy it would be to lean forward just an inch and press my lips to hers. I’m about to do just that until she opens her mouth. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”
I rear back and turn away from her. “Good. Get rolling then.”
She walks through the apartment, grabbing things and throwing them in bags. I stand at the front door, anxious to go. I won’t be able to relax until we’re out of here and I have Emily safe and back in Whiskey Run.
5
Emily
I can’t believe I’m doing this, I think for the hundredth time since we pulled out of the parking lot at West End. With one glance over at Dawson and seeing the way his jaw is pulled tight, he’s not happy about it either. “I can stay somewhere else.”
He shakes his head. “You can stay with me. I have a spare bedroom.”
I cross my arms over my chest and watch the trees go by as we drive from Jasper to Whiskey Run. We’re on the long stretch of road between the big city and the small town, and already I can feel myself relaxing, knowing I won’t have to go back to West End. I hate feeling indebted to Aiden and Gracie for letting me stay in their apartment, but I also don’t know what would happen if I stayed where I was at.
“Were you being serious?”
I can barely make out his face. The streetlights along the highway are random, and I only get a glimpse of his face when an oncoming car passes us. “When?” he asks.
“About them saying they were going to climb into my window?”
His jaw tightens even more, and he blinks. “Yes.”
A tremor races through my body, making all the what ifs come to mind. There’s no way I could have fought three of them off and probably not even one if it was the big one. The images that go through my head cause me to take big, deep steady breaths to try and calm my racing heart.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about that now,” Dawson says. He lets go of the steering wheel, and I think he is going to reach for me, but his hand lands on the gear shift between us. I watch as he wraps his hand around it tightly.
“I guess I owe you one. Thank you for coming in and getting me, Dawson.”
His voice is gruff. “You don’t owe me anything.”
The rest of the trip is made in silence. When we pull into the driveway of a small white house with black trim, I can’t help but think that the house is different than I expected. I open the door and start grabbing bags as Dawson does the same. He opens the gate of the white picket fence, and I can’t help but comment, “White picket fence?”
His answer is more of a grunt, and I stand to the side as he unlocks the door and then ushers me in. I look at the house and am amazed by the farmhouse vibe. Everything is in place, framed pictures on the wall, big wood furniture. It’s amazing. I drop the bags, and even though I shouldn’t, I start to walk around, just taking it all in. “This is your house?”
He nods, and with his hands still full, he walks through the living room. “This is the living room, kitchen,” he says with a nod toward the kitchen I can see from the open concept. “This is my room, and this will be yours.” He stops in front of a door and waits for me to go through. The same design carries through into the bedroom, and I know I should leave it alone, but I can’t. “Dawson, this place is beautiful.”