Page 38 of Josephine and Clay

“Jealous,” I shoot back.

That earns me a chorus of insults and laughter as I head for the door.

Outside, it’s cooler and carries that late-night stillness towns get after they’ve wrung out most of their noise. Gravel crunches under my boots as I make my way back to the motel. My body’s starting to stiffen now, bruises and strain settling in for the night, but under all of that there’s still a restless hum in me.

The ride did that.

So did the win.

So does she.

My room is dim and stale when I step inside. Same ugly bedspread. Same rattling AC unit. Same nothing little room that could be anywhere in the country. I kick the door shut behind me, toss my hat onto the table, and sit down on the edge of the bed long enough to pull my boots off.

Then I grab my phone.

I don’t overthink it. If I do, I might stop.

Clay: You awake?

The three dots appear so fast I laugh.

Josie: Unfortunately for me, yes.

That grin comes easy.

Clay: Funny. I was just thinking unfortunately for you too.

Josie: Oh no. Why?

Clay: Because now you have to deal with me.

A pause.

Josie: That seems dramatic. I could simply stop replying.

Clay: You could. You won’t.

The dots blink, disappear, then come back.

Josie: Your confidence remains one of your more irritating qualities.

I stretch out against the headboard, one leg bent, phone in hand.

Clay: More irritating than charming?

Josie: Significantly.

Clay: Still talking to me though.

Josie: A lapse in judgment. It happens.

I laugh under my breath. I can almost hear her saying it, dry as hell, pretending she isn’t smiling while she types.

Clay: Long day?

Josie: Very.

Clay: You should let me distract you.