“I can take you back to the ranch,” Zach offers. “It’s your call.”
I don’t really want to walk, but there’s no way I’m getting in that truck. That truck is the truck. The place where so many nights were spent doing things we shouldn’t have been doing. A lot of love was exchanged in that front seat. I don’t think I can be in there with him.
Zach looks over where my eyes are and his shoulders slump. It’s as if we’ve both had the same realization.
“I can walk.” My life is painful and complicated already. I’m not going to make this harder on myself. Being close to him is hard enough because I keep going backward. I know we don’t have a shot. I don’t even want one, but he’s familiar. And I’m alone. He reminds me of comfort.
He looks over with a hint of disappointment. “You sure?”
I smile and nod. “Thanks for the offer.”
He tosses his keys in the air and catches them as he walks away. I take two steps, and the sky opens up. Rain falls hard and fast, soaking my hair and clothes.
I rush to get under the awning, but Zach jumps back out of his truck and grabs the bag from me. “Come on. You’re not walking in this.”
Defeat flows through me. He wins again.
“Y OU COLD?” ZACH ASKS AS I climb in. I’m shaking, but it has nothing to do with being cold. My body is pressed against the door, trying to keep as much distance as possible between us.
“I’m just fine.”
The drive isn’t long, but each second feels like an hour. I look around and smile. “You’re kidding me.” I laugh as my fingers touch the sticker on the dash. When Zach was playing a game in Nashville, I wanted to give him something that would make him remember me. It was only two nights, but I was young and dumb. There was a sticker that read: Love Your Cowgirl. I stuck it on the dash, hoping he wouldn’t get pissed.
Before leaving, he came to my house, took me in his arms, and kissed me till I couldn’t breathe. He never said a word. Just got back in his truck, winked, and drove off. He was always doing things like that. He would tell me he needed to feel something real.
“I refused to remove it at first,” he says with warmth in his voice. “Then it had been there so long, it wouldn’t come off.”
“Sorry I permanently defaced your truck. I didn’t realize it would still run after this long.”
The roar of the engine vibrates through the silence. I remember it was always loud, but I swear I never felt it like this. Zach clears his throat. “I don’t think it’ll ever die. It’s tough as hell.”
He puts the truck in drive and heads down the small road toward my house. “This looks really bad,” I say, squinting.
Zach drives slowly as rain pelts the truck harder than before. I can barely see anything out the windshield. He pulls over to the side of the road. “I can’t see. I’m going to wait until this lets up a little.”
Mother Nature is a cold-hearted bitch. Doesn’t she know how much I don’t want to be in this truck? Couldn’t she give me one freaking break? Of course not. Nope. We should make this as awkward and uncomfortable as humanly possible. The thunder booms behind us, causing me to jump. Great. Now we’re going to have the storm from hell.
“So?” I say after a minute of silence.
“You never could handle the quiet.” Zach smirks as I fight the urge to punch him in the leg.
“Yes, I could!”
“No. You always needed either music or talking. Good to see some things are still the same.”
“I’m a lot different.”
So much has changed since he left me. Not only in my life, but who I am. Loving someone the way I loved him changed me deep inside. But losing my husband took a part of my heart and tarnished it beyond repair.
“We both are, Pres.” He’s right. He’s not the same boy I remember. “Since we’re stuck here, tell me how you’re different.”
“We don’t have to talk.” I cross my arms and look out the window.
He chuckles. “No. But who knows how long before the rain stops.”
I don’t want to let my guard down with him. It would be so easy to let go and be his friend. I’m not prepared to be trapped in a car with him. I continue to gaze out at the road, trying to find a break in the downpour.
“Suit yourself,” Zach says as he opens a candy bar.
Son of a bitch. “You’re going to eat that in front of me?” I have no restraint when it comes to chocolate and peanut butter.
“Want some?” He tilts the chocolaty goodness close and then jerks it back. “I only ask for one thing.”
“What’s that?” I ask, snatching the candy out of his hand.
“You can’t ignore me while we’re stuck here.”
I snap off a piece, pop it in my mouth, and grin. “Fine. Tell me how you’re so different.”
“Well, first of all, I wouldn’t ever play chicken on the covered bridge. I would never try to tip a bull again. Most of all, I would never try to steal a candy bar from Mrs. Rooney.”