Her mouth twitched. “Do you miss working on the project?”
“Oh God, yes.” He banged the back of his head against the headrest. “Selling the project was exciting, and I learned all sorts of things about the business of computers. I thought I’d sell the program and be done with it. That having all this money and free time would be liberating.” The reality of his situation was as blinding as the sun off the snow. “But it’s not. It’s very boring.”
“Why don’t you work on something else?”
“Oh, I will.” He waved his hand. “I’ve got all sorts of ideas about things I want to do.”
He did. Or, at least, he had until he’d gotten in this stupid SUV and driven into the mountains to find himself like he was some kind of hippie rather than a nerd who used to retreat from the sun like a vampire.
“But first I’ve got to get this solution implemented. Then I can move on to something else.”
She bit her lip.
“What?” he asked. It looked like, if she wasn’t careful, she might choke on the words she was obviously holding back.
“I don’t know you very well . . .”
He raised an eyebrow. This was not the start of anything good. Like, It’s not you, it’s me, when it was really about the way you took your coffee black, or didn’t eat eggs, or didn’t like cats. “But . . . ?” he said, drawing out the word in invitation.
“Have you considered that you’re stuck on this old thing because you succeeded at it and it’s scary to start something new that might not be nearly such a success? Sophomore efforts and all that.”
Her words pushed him against the back of his seat as if she’d shot an arrow—bull’s-eye—straight through his chest, pinning him. She couldn’t be right, could she? He had all kinds of ideas about what he wanted to work on next. Lists and lists and lists of them. Plus, all those people who wouldn’t give him work or answer his calls a couple of years ago were now coming to him with job offers. If he couldn’t focus on any of the ideas on any of those lists and hadn’t e-mailed or called any of those companies back yet, it was because he wanted the time to think. Not because he was afraid.
“It’s a valid question, but that’s not what is happening in this case. After I get this fix checked out, I’ll move on to something new. I’ve got companies contacting me all the time, as well as independent guys looking to do something just as cool.”
She nodded, but he could tell that she didn’t really believe him.
The heat from the engine had melted all the snow that had accumulated on the hood of the car, and water was now dripping down the windshield. He turned on the wipers to clear his view, then shifted the car into drive and eased his foot off the brake. The tires caught traction pretty easily and were able to inch forward until they were on the road, which had already been salted. Apparently they’d both slept through the salt trucks, and if they’d kept sleeping much longer, they probably would have been woken up by the Idaho Highway Patrol knocking on the window.
As soon as he was comfortable with the car on the road and as certain as he could be that they weren’t going to slide off into the ditch—or off a cliff—Marc took his hand off the wheel and put his palm on Selina’s leg. He wanted to feel that she was there, solid and breathing next to him, especially because he wasn’t sure what else in his life was constant. She may not be here forever, but she was here now. And now was what he needed.
She stared at the touch but didn’t push his hand off the way he had worried she would. To his surprise, after initially tensing, the muscles under his hand relaxed.
“I’m glad that you’re impressed with me and my work,” he said. “It’s an easy thing to be impressed by, I guess. But I’m impressed by you, too. You’re working, and going to school, and have a shitty home life, and you don’t trust that you’ll be able to sleep safely. Yet you’re still getting good grades, making money, and pushing on.”
She placed a hand on top of his and gave him a gentle squeeze.
“Big, splashy things like selling a product for millions of dollars in your twenties is what makes the news,” he continued. “But pushing forward in life while everything seems to be against you is the kind of grit that makes the world function. And if no one’s told you lately, I think you’re great.”
When he glanced at her face, he noticed dampness in her eyes. “No one’s told me that in a long time. Thank you.”
Chapter Six
“Have you called your mom yet?” Marc asked Selina about two hours into their drive.
“No,” she said, keeping her eyes forward.