Arizona Heat by Ellie J. LaBelle Page A

brooding.
    “Oh, he doesn't want to be alone, ” Mr. Lewis scoffs.
    “Dad, ” Reagan warns.
    “Reagan, you don’t actually want to be alone. No one wants to be alone. What are you going to do once you get where you’re going? Go to dinner by yourself? Sightsee by yourself? It isn't safe for you to drive that far on your own anyway. ” Reagan doesn't say a word as he stands and exits the room. The front door shuts and I scramble for a minute before deciding to follow him. Honestly, I didn't want to answer any more questions on the matter.
    I find Reagan sitting with his head in his hands on the front step by the door.
    “Everything okay? ” I ask, taking a seat next to him.
    “Yeah, ” he answers shorty. It’s amazing how after one day of spending time with him, he seems more like a person and less like a celebrity. I realize that celebrities are just people, organic matter like anyone else, but his mysterious exterior is becoming less and less apparent. Seeing Reagan here, on the front step of my house, he really is just a person. No glamor, no flashy lights, just a guy who is clearly working through some shit.
    “You know you can talk to me, ” I say, looking into his sad eyes.
    “You don't even know me, ” he says and it’s like a punch to the gut.
    “I get the feeling nobody does, ” I mutter.
    “Come with me.”
    Say what now?
    “Come with me, ” he says again, dark brown eyes begging.
    “Why? ” I gasp.
    “ That is exactly why.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “You don’t look at me like Lewis Law . You look at me like Reagan. I run into old friends on the street and I’m not Reagan anymore. My own family can’t look at me the same, all they want is money, and my soul belongs to the record label. I can’t write, I can’t sing without hating myself. But you, you look at me like I’m the same person I was years ago. You see me and for some reason, I feel like I can write again. I want you to come with me because I like spending time with you. ” He smirks to himself before adding, “And if this road trip is half as exciting as yesterday, I think I’ll have plenty to write about.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Don’t make me ask twice, ” he smirks and I feel my heart race. Can I really go on a road trip with him? Logistically it makes sense for him to drop me off since we’re going to the same place, right? I was searching for the unexpected and this sure as shit wasn't how I expected my trip to go. But there are so many reasons I should say no, namely this little thing called a fianc é that I have. Simon would never go for this and I can’t go without telling him. My mind is already filled with guilt for not telling him about the trip to the Grand Canyon. Well, I told him where I was going, but failed to mention who it was with. Why did I not tell him? It’s not as if I was doing anything wrong and it is not as if I intended to share a motel room with Reagan. So why did I keep it from him? Reagan looks at me and it’s nearly impossible not to say yes, but I can’t.
    “Can I think about it?”
    I’m only human, it was impossible to say no too.

Chapter Twelve
     
    “Stop overreacting, ” I huff, swinging on a hammock in the back yard.
    “You spent the night with another man and you think I’m overreacting?”
    “I drove into a freaking ditch. I almost died.”
    “I don’t care if you drove off a cliff, you don't spend the night with some random guy.”
    “Fuck you Simon.”
    “I sit around waiting for you to call, worried about you, and find out you lied to me on the phone. How did you expect me to feel? You didn’t even think to mention that you crashed the rental car when we spoke that night.”
    “Oh, so now you care that I almost died, ” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
    “You didn’t almost die, ” he huffs.
    “I never exaggerate. If I say that I almost died then I really mean that I almost died. I’m being honest with you now, doesn't that count for