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What the Hell Have I Done
When I wheelmy overstuffed luggage out to the sidewalk, Jake is already here. The hazard lights on his Italian car flash to signal he’s waiting for someone, and he’s leaning against the front fender, looking like a delicious slice of country boy pie—aviators, arms crossed over a perfectly fitted white v-neck, faded jeans, brown boots, and an unreadable look. His brain has probably been shitting itself with all the possible ways his life is going to change after this article runs, and he doesn’t even know what’s in it yet. Or maybe he does…
I manage to not look at him too long and distract myself with texting Daphne. She’s not happy I’m going, but also knows I’ve made up my mind.
Will text you when we get there.
As soon as you get there. And we need a safe word. Like if you’re in danger, you’ll text it to me and I’ll call the police.
You mean, code word?
Haha yes, whatever. The CODE word is RACE.
10-4
AND DON’T SLEEP WITH HIM.
You’re the one with sex on the brain!
I squirrel my phone away in my purse when I get closer and he swoops in to get my luggage. “I’ve got it,” I insist, diverting around him and heading toward the trunk.
He doesn’t argue. Just pops the trunk and supervises to make sure I can get it in okay, then hurries to the driver’s side.
After we’re folded and buckled inside, he takes off toward the interstate.
It’s quiet in the cab of this ridiculously expensive car for a solid five minutes, the awkward silence nearly suffocating. Neither of us knows what to say.
He then turns onto I-75 headed south and merges in with traffic, and I pull out my phone to text the next person who needs to know what I’m doing. Claudia:
I think I’ll have more info for the Jake article this weekend.
“I wondered if you’d go through with this,” Jake finally says. His voice is low. The muscles along his forearm flex as he shifts gears and swerves smoothly into the next lane.
“Despite my better judgment,” I reply, trying to keep my attention on the phone. Diane Sawyer wouldn’t approve.
He chuckles darkly. Swerves into the next lane. “I almost bailed myself.”
I wouldn’t blame him. This is all kinds of idiotic. “Let’s agree, then. If either one of us wants to bail at any time, no questions asked.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Deal.”
I look his way to make sure he knows I’m not kidding. “And my best friend knows where I’m at and who I’m with.”
It takes him a second to gather my meaning. He flashes a quick smile. Damn, I forgot how pretty his teeth are up close, and that he has dimples. No fair that the man is so good looking. “In case you disappear, you mean?”
“Precisely.”
“What, are you afraid I’m taking you down here to whack you?”
I can’t help but smile too. “I’m not ruling anything out of this equation.”
Something about that makes him snicker to some secret, amusing thought. My phone chimes with Claudia’s reply, distracting me:
You think you will? Or will?
I will. I hope.
Send it no later than Monday morning.
