opened in front of him on his desk. “Good.”
“Night, Dad.”
“Goodnight.”
Chapter Five
Wade pushes the snooze button on the alarm three times Saturday morning. Instead of hitting the road at 5:30 as planned, we stumble into the shower together more than an hour after that. Hot water and his hands help wake me, but they end up putting us further behind schedule. We were up packing his suitcase for our weekend trip until late last night.
There are many things I love about Wade, but his knack for procrastination isn’t one of them. The good news is we shopped together for his family online. At least I know their gifts are taken care of.
After our shower, he makes coffee while I dry my hair. I’ll have an almost four-hour drive to apply makeup, but if my hair dries naturally, it’ll be a frizzy mess. Wade dated his next-door neighbor for a while during high school, so I always try to look my best when we’re in Savannah. It’s silly, considering the number of times he sees me in zombie mode during our daily life together, but something about his ex-girlfriend is motivating. She’s made it clear she doesn’t like me, and I don’t want to give her reason to judge me.
I wear my cutest jeans, a flattering sweater, and boots with dangerous heels. When I join him in the kitchen, he’s lounging against the counter, wearing his running sweats and a Hawks hoodie. His hair isn’t quite dry, so the tips are curling, creating a wild mess on his head. There’s a hint of stubble along his well-defined jaw.
Even though I had him less than an hour ago, the stirring of want is there. It’s always there, even when I want to strangle him for being so appealing in his “lazy” clothes. It’s unfair I’m stuck wearing neck-breaker boots on a road trip when he doesn’t even have to try.
“Wow,” he says, looking up from the newspaper. He leaves it sitting on the counter to step forward into my path. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hillary.”
He laughs before leaning in for a kiss. “You’re kidding, right?” His palms rest on my hips. “It was fifteen years ago. I was seventeen.”
Instead of replying, I kiss him back. I know what love was like at seventeen, how wild and free it exists in that last stretch of youth. I don’t worry about his feelings for her now, but the thought of him living out loud that way with some other girl never fails to awaken my dormant jealous side.
“She doesn’t like me.”
“And this is relevant how?”
I stare at my hands on his chest. “It’s not. I just… want you to be glad I’m your girlfriend.”
“Nothing says ‘I love you’ like an uncomfortable pair of boots.” He smiles and lightly pushes me away. “Go. Change your shoes so we can leave.”
My worn-out running shoes are heaven, but I slip the boots into my suitcase before rolling it out of our bedroom. Those boots are killer, and there’s no way I’m leaving them behind. When we get to his car, I lift my bag into the back seat instead of the trunk. It can’t hurt to have them nearby in case I change my mind.
Wade opens my car door and studies my face. “You packed the boots, didn’t you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I take my seat, stare straight ahead, and try to fight a grin.
“Of course you do.”
The door closes, and I use the few seconds alone in the car to laugh. It’s under control by the time he slides in next to me.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Let’s go.”
The sky is pale violet everywhere the sun isn’t. It’s cloudy and looks cold, but according to all the major networks, including Wade’s, the high will eventually creep over sixty degrees later in the day.
“Are you nervous about the interview?” I ask after we cross the city limit.
“Not yet. It’ll hit me Tuesday morning,” he says.
“Do you know how many others have applied?”
“At least a few.”
For the next hour, I conduct a mock interview, asking him questions about his current
“Night, Dad.”
“Goodnight.”
Chapter Five
Wade pushes the snooze button on the alarm three times Saturday morning. Instead of hitting the road at 5:30 as planned, we stumble into the shower together more than an hour after that. Hot water and his hands help wake me, but they end up putting us further behind schedule. We were up packing his suitcase for our weekend trip until late last night.
There are many things I love about Wade, but his knack for procrastination isn’t one of them. The good news is we shopped together for his family online. At least I know their gifts are taken care of.
After our shower, he makes coffee while I dry my hair. I’ll have an almost four-hour drive to apply makeup, but if my hair dries naturally, it’ll be a frizzy mess. Wade dated his next-door neighbor for a while during high school, so I always try to look my best when we’re in Savannah. It’s silly, considering the number of times he sees me in zombie mode during our daily life together, but something about his ex-girlfriend is motivating. She’s made it clear she doesn’t like me, and I don’t want to give her reason to judge me.
I wear my cutest jeans, a flattering sweater, and boots with dangerous heels. When I join him in the kitchen, he’s lounging against the counter, wearing his running sweats and a Hawks hoodie. His hair isn’t quite dry, so the tips are curling, creating a wild mess on his head. There’s a hint of stubble along his well-defined jaw.
Even though I had him less than an hour ago, the stirring of want is there. It’s always there, even when I want to strangle him for being so appealing in his “lazy” clothes. It’s unfair I’m stuck wearing neck-breaker boots on a road trip when he doesn’t even have to try.
“Wow,” he says, looking up from the newspaper. He leaves it sitting on the counter to step forward into my path. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hillary.”
He laughs before leaning in for a kiss. “You’re kidding, right?” His palms rest on my hips. “It was fifteen years ago. I was seventeen.”
Instead of replying, I kiss him back. I know what love was like at seventeen, how wild and free it exists in that last stretch of youth. I don’t worry about his feelings for her now, but the thought of him living out loud that way with some other girl never fails to awaken my dormant jealous side.
“She doesn’t like me.”
“And this is relevant how?”
I stare at my hands on his chest. “It’s not. I just… want you to be glad I’m your girlfriend.”
“Nothing says ‘I love you’ like an uncomfortable pair of boots.” He smiles and lightly pushes me away. “Go. Change your shoes so we can leave.”
My worn-out running shoes are heaven, but I slip the boots into my suitcase before rolling it out of our bedroom. Those boots are killer, and there’s no way I’m leaving them behind. When we get to his car, I lift my bag into the back seat instead of the trunk. It can’t hurt to have them nearby in case I change my mind.
Wade opens my car door and studies my face. “You packed the boots, didn’t you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I take my seat, stare straight ahead, and try to fight a grin.
“Of course you do.”
The door closes, and I use the few seconds alone in the car to laugh. It’s under control by the time he slides in next to me.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Let’s go.”
The sky is pale violet everywhere the sun isn’t. It’s cloudy and looks cold, but according to all the major networks, including Wade’s, the high will eventually creep over sixty degrees later in the day.
“Are you nervous about the interview?” I ask after we cross the city limit.
“Not yet. It’ll hit me Tuesday morning,” he says.
“Do you know how many others have applied?”
“At least a few.”
For the next hour, I conduct a mock interview, asking him questions about his current
Similar Books
