Page 82 of A Real Goode Time

“Yeah, good point. Get some sleep, is all I mean.”

We went back to the Jeep, and continued to the next stop, where I refueled and bought coffees and more snacks. I saved my coffee for after I woke up; it’d be cold by then, but I was accustomed to drinking cold coffee in the shop when I was too busy to make more or reheat it.

Once we were well on the way, I fell asleep within minutes to the hum of the tires and the low jangle of the classic rock playlist.

I wokeup just outside Saskatoon, drank some coffee and looked over at my driving partner. I could see that Torie was lost in thought, as I’d been when she startled me the day before. We’d been driving without stop for over twenty-four hours.

“How you doing?” I asked.

She started, laughed self-consciously. “Got me back,” she breathed, shaking her head. “I’m about ready to hand it over.”

“You thinking we should keep going? Or grab a motel and rest for the day?”

She shrugged. “I’m tired, but I’m wired, and I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep anytime soon, so I guess if you’re game to drive a while, we could keep going and stop early.”

I didn’t ask the question. Thought it, but didn’t ask it.

It was another long day on the Canadian prairies. The silence was a little awkward, and it seemed impossible to break. What to say? Where to start?

So we did the ostrich thing, burying our heads in the metaphorical sand and refusing to address the issue––thus, we didn’t talk much at all. Between the elephant and the ostrich, the Jeep was beginning to look like a zoo.

Despite her claim, Torie fell asleep. It was better that way.

She slept through my pit stop for gas and coffee and the restroom.

She was still sleeping when we drove past Edmonton.

I was now in the zone, a captive of highway hypnotism. I had the radio off, my window down, arm out. I forgot about being hungry, tired, horny and the issues between us—I was focused on nothing but the drive.

And Torie slept on. Longer than she’d ever slept since I’d known her—through an entire tank of gas, another cup of coffee and emptied bladder. She was still sleeping when night fell.

She snored. Real, actual snores. Loud enough to make me laugh every time, because it was so damned cute.

In the middle of the night, she finally stirred. Blinked awake. “Shit. I slept. Where are we?”

“You were out for damn near twelve hours.” I pointed out the window at the darkness.

She blinked again. “Twelve hours?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

She bit her lip and sat upright. “I, um…have to pee.”

I glanced at the GPS. “Don’t think we’re all that near a stop. How bad?”

She winced. “Like, pull over right the fuck now.”

I pointed at the windshield—which was wet, wipers going. “Uh, it’s pouring out.”

“Well, I’m about to go in my big girl panties in about ten seconds. I’ll just have to get a little hardcore.”

I glanced at her, and she had her knees pinched hard together and was bouncing in her seat. “Shit, all right. Here we go.”

I pulled over onto the shoulder and put on the flashers—fortunately, we were in an area with an actual shoulder, a place where the hills approached the mountains, and there wasn’t a car in sight. As soon as we were fully stopped, she threw open the door and leaped out.

“Shit, it’s really fucking raining!” she yelled, then glanced at me. “This is gonna be an eyeful for you, Rhys.”

And right there in the relative lee of the open door, rain spattering the seat and the door and the inside of the Jeep, she dropped her jeans and kicked off one leg, moving with desperate, jerky speed, held them out of the way, and squatted.