Page 86 of Say You'll Never Let Go

What’s in her own head can’t upset him or make him uncomfortable. While these daydreams aren’t new, they still feel wrong and she hates herself for not being able to control them. What did she think would happen when she agreed to come out here with him alone? Of course, everything she’d been stuffing down would crest the surface.

When they hit a few jagged, shallow potholes, the seat vibrates so steadily against her she lets out a gasp, squeezing his shirt.

He mistakenly assumes something else entirely, pulling them to a stop beside a waist-high wheat field. “Beautiful, ain’t it? We’ve been driving a while. You wanna rest here a bit?”

She can barely meet his eyes after imagining him pushing her legs apart while she sits on this bike and fitting himself so deep inside her that she can hardly form a coherent thought. Betraying his trust in her head and running wild with fantasies won’t do either of them any good. She’s skilled at covering, though. Always has been.

Kara nods and they dismount, standing side by side when he gives her a tap on the hip that feels like the most newly intimate thing they’ve ever done, and nods toward something past her. “Look over there. Wanna test it out?”

There’s an old pickup truck in a field rusting on its wheels.

“You remembered,” she says softly. “From my list. We don’t have to. I know it’s silly.”

“Stop saying that. It’s not. Now let’s go watch the sunset in the back of a pickup truck and wait for those stars.”

* * *

Her desire to experience this might have something to do with all those low-budget romance movies she used to watch beforethe turn, though she would never admit that to anyone, certainly not him. Her dreams of a simple life are as coveted as her secrets and she holds them just as close.

It isn’t, however, the most comfortable place to relax. The truck bed digs into her ass and their blankets they’ve packed for sleeping aren’t thick enough to combat it.

She squirms, admitting defeat. “So…this was a really sweet idea, but I was wrong. My ass hurts and it’s uncomfortable as hell.”

He huffs in amusement. “Thank god, my legs are going numb. Sit in the grass instead?”

“Yes. Please.”

They shift a few feet away and down into a small section of shorter grass, a much softer cushion for an early dinner as the sun begins its journey and the skies flare scorching pinks and purples. She can’t take her eyes off it long after they’ve finished their meals and have lapsed into comfortable silence.

“Everything smells so clean out here.” She shivers as a breeze caresses her face.

When Wade asks if she’s cold, she nods, her nose scrunching with a pleased smile at his lifted arm that she quickly puts herself under. She lets him tug her into his side and rub her upper arm to chase away the chill.

“This was a good evening. Thank you.”

He hums out an agreeable sound, perfectly relaxed, holding her like it’s something they do all the time. Maybe now it can be. Maybe this is an acceptable thing in casual daily life, and she doesn’t have to wish and hope for it.

She’s loved every version of him, but Wade is different out here on the road. With every mile they travel, he seems to grow more confident and, with that, more affectionate toward her. Kara is the one who’s twitchy now. The one who can’t stop assuming any wrong step might be the catalyst to lose the mostimportant person in her life, just when she’s finally gotten him back.

That’s the thing about being in love with your best friend, she’s realized. Everything that should be simple feels difficult.

Everything that should be clear is cloudy.

Everything she wishes she could say sticks in her throat for fear of risking a bond so precious that she wouldn’t survive the loss of it.

The only way to make significant progress is to find enough bravery to leave their current status behind in favor of something new, and she isn’t that brave.

Yet.

Wade is trying to give her all the contact she wants without a moment’s hesitation. It’s new and welcome and confusing all on its own. Isn’t this something couples do? Do friends watch a sunset together, curled up in each other’s arms? Fuck if she knows anymore. Her experience at being one half of a couple has never been typical, anyway. She has little experience to draw from, often preferring her own company to that of a man.

“Is your cut okay? We should check it later and make sure it’s not getting infected. Damn nails in that place were rusty.”

“It’s fine, but if you wanna play doctor again, I’m okay with that,” she teases.

“At your service. I’m all for a little role-playing.”

Instantly, he is that man she remembers from so long ago. The one who flirted with anyone who had a pulse, and made her knees weak with his smug grin. He is still in there somewhere, sneaking up to the surface when she least expects it.