Page 31 of King Of Nothing


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“I’d appreciate that,” I tell her softly.

“All right, I’m emailing you the contract now.”

“Thank you, Kandi. I’ll call you soon.” I hang up after hearing her say goodbye.

“You got an offer?” he asks, his eyes roaming over my face, and I nod.

“Come here.” He stands and pulls me up, wrapping his arms around me.

“I should be happy,” I say into his shirt as he palms the back of my head.

“It’s okay that you’re not.”

“I hope that whoever is buying it has kids and that they are as happy there as I was growing up.”

He doesn’t respond with words, but I feel his lips at the top of my hair. Taking his hand off the back of my head, he moves it down to my neck, then around to my jaw. Tipping my head back, he scans my eyes, then lets out a deep breath. He leans in and presses his lips against my forehead, holding them there.

My nose stings. There is something unmistakably huge about the simple gesture of affection from him.

Only I don’t know that “something” is that Roman Dante King has never shown affection to anyone, not when he was little, and definitely not since he became the man he is now.

10

ELORA

41.7726° N, 124.0994° W

Blinking my eyes open when the van begins to slow, I catch a glimpse of a sign out the window as we pass it, but I’m not fast enough to read what it says before it’s out of sight.

Sitting up, I look over at Roman, who has been driving since we left the auto shop in Cannon Beach over seven hours ago. Even when we stopped to get gas twice, he refused to let me drive. Not that I put up much of a fight. It’s been nice not having to worry about the giant semis, traffic, and all the things that come along with being the one behind the wheel.

With him driving, it also gave me time to go over the contract Kandi sent over. When I saw the offer amount written out in black and white, that wave of relief I was missing earlier came at me in full force. I didn’t realize the enormity of the weight I had been carrying around until I saw it would be possible for me to pay off my mom’s bills and figure out what’s next for my own future. A scary thought, considering that, when the deal is done, I won’t have a home to go back to, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

“Where are we?” I ask when I realize there isn’t a gas station up ahead.

“The Grove of Titans,” Roman says, glancing over at me. “I did a little research this morning while I was waiting for my ride back to the hotel. I figured we could stop here and stretch our legs, then head on to the campsite that is about an hour further.”

“You researched it?” I watch as he drives into a parking area surrounded by trees, where there are at least a dozen cars parked.

“It came up in a Google search as one of the top ten places to see the redwoods, and the trail is only a little over an hour walk roundtrip.”

“Cool.” I hide my smile that says the fact that he did research is cute. “I need to change into my sneakers.” I unbuckle and climb between the seats into the back. Going to the box I placed in one of the cabinets, I take out a single small bottle of my mom’s ashes and tuck it into my pocket just in case this place feels like the right spot. When I’m done, I grab my sneakers and sit on the plywood floor between the front seats and the bed. While I’m tying my shoes, the back door opens, and Roman reaches in next to me, grabbing his backpack and putting two bottles of water into the front pocket.

“Ready?”

“Yep.” I nod, and he reaches for my hand and helps me out. I dust off my bottom once I’m standing on my feet.

“Do you want a sweater?”

“I’m okay.” The look he gives me makes it obvious he’s not happy with my decision, and I sigh. Turning, I grab the flannel shirt I tossed into the back this morning. I don’t put it on since it’s too warm out. Instead, I tie it around my waist.

Obviously satisfied now, he shuts the back door, then places his hand against my lower back, leading me toward the head of the trail at the edge of the lot.

Before we even reach the inner forest, I’m overwhelmed by the sheer height and size of the trees. Oregon was covered in thick forests, and as we drove today, all I saw were tree-covered hills and mountains, but this is different. I stop to tip my head back and look up. The trees are so tall they feel like skyscrapers looming over us.

“Is this how it feels when you’re walking down the street in New York?” I ask quietly, glancing at my side.

“Maybe,” he says just as quietly, tipping his head back. “I’ve lived there so long I never look up.” He drops his eyes to mine and holds his hand out to me. “Come on.”

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