“Right back at you. When are you coming home?”
I study the mountains looming on the horizon. “I don’t know. I thought we’d be heading back later this week, but some shit’s come up.”
“Shit?”
“Shit.”
“Got it.” That’s Isaiah. He doesn’t need to know details to sympathize.
“Did you put the money down on the apartment?” I made a promise to Isaiah that I wouldn’t leave him behind in foster care. Even though the state would pay for me to live in the dorms, there’s no way I can leave my non-blood brother behind, so we decided to move out together, even though he’ll only be a senior in high school this fall.
“We move in September first.”
I exhale. One less situation to worry about.
“I got a favor to ask,” says Isaiah.
“Shoot.”
“If you’re going to be gone for another few weeks...” Isaiah’s not a guy who hesitates, nor is he the kind that asks for favors. He’d rather break off his arm and sell it than ask for help. “I’d like to bring Beth out. A guy owes me, and I can get one-way bus tickets cheap. Watching Beth with her mom is like watching a ticking time bomb without a pair of pliers to clip the wires.”
“Is Beth going to be on board with this?” Beth doesn’t like being away from her mom.
“She owes me, and she knows it, but it doesn’t mean she won’t bitch.” A long pause. “The shit Beth’s mom’s into...I need to get Beth out of town for a few days. Change her perspective. Then maybe she’ll stop going over to her mom’s so much.”
That would take a damn miracle. Regardless of that I say, “Come on out.”
I should discuss it with Echo first—hell, I still need to talk to her about my mother’s family. Beth and Echo can be oil and water. It’s tough for Beth to trust people, and she’s given Echo a rough time from the get-go. I’m sure Echo’s going to be thrilled to hear we’ll have guests, but the decision needs to be made and made now.
If Echo’s anything, she’s understanding. We’ll enjoy Colorado Springs then get to Denver. I’ll take her out to a nice dinner after the showing then tell her everything. She’s got too much on her plate at the moment to deal with my baggage.
“We’ll be in Colorado Springs for the next two days. Denver for a night after that.” And screw me. “Maybe Vail will be on the list.”
“I’ve gotta go. Beth’s walking out.”
Isaiah hangs up, and a tug to return home grows. I’ve got Isaiah, Beth and my brothers waiting for me. Plus, Echo will be at my side. I’m not alone—I’m not.
Echo’s red curls bounce as she drags the cooler up the path. With her eyes fixed on the car, she lifts the cooler, tosses it into the backseat, slams the back door shut then slides into the front passenger seat and yanks that door shut with pissed-off pizzazz.
We’ve got a couple of hours in the car together, and my girl has a hell of a temper. This should be an interesting ride.
Echo
Colorado Springs is, according to the guy who tried initiating small talk a few seconds ago outside the hotel, unseasonably hot. Hot enough that I’m shocked that people don’t melt the moment they step into the sunlight. The sweater doesn’t help.
I push off the hood of my Honda Civic, twist my hair off my neck and duck into the shadow of a towering fir tree. The stark contrast between Alamosa and Colorado Springs is beyond amazing: desert and flat to green with mountains rising in the distance. The urge to paint and draw overwhelms me as the sights and colors here are a feast for my artistic palate.
I could have joined Noah in the hotel lobby, but then he’d believe he was winning, and he’s so not. We haven’t talked since the café, and he’s dead wrong if he thinks I’m caving. I don’t care how many wicked smiles he flashes in my direction or how many times he “mistakenly” brushes his hand against my cheek or thigh. He can make my head spin and my blood run hot, but I’m strong enough to resist his every temptation.
I haven’t gone this long without kissing Noah since this spring when we broke up for a couple of weeks. I shiver despite the heat. That was one of the darkest periods of my life and, unfortunately, I’m well versed in dark.
Noah exits the lobby, and I’m hypnotized by his confident strut. Even in the heat, he wears jeans and a black T-shirt and never breaks a sweat. Not impervious to hot weather, I blow a couple of curls away from my face.
“You wouldn’t be so hot if you took off your sweater,” he says.
My fingers clutch the ends of the material.
Noah rests a hand on my hip and chuckles when I pull away. “You’re going to have to talk to me sometime.”