Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I let out a sigh, moving one hand from the steering wheel to scratch the back of my head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about,” I say finally, glancing at her from the corner of my eye.
Diana shifts in her seat, turning more fully toward me. “But maybe I want to help,” she says softly.
Her words hang in the air for a moment, and a part of me wants to believe them. The way she looks at me—with such honesty and openness—is different from anything I’ve known.
“I appreciate it,” I say, shifting my gaze back to the road, “but it’s not your problem to fix.”
She doesn’t respond immediately, but I can feel her eyes on me. I always feel her eyes on me. Hell, I feel her. She makes me want things I have no business wanting. She makes me want to open up, spill my guts.
If I do that, she’ll go running.
“I get that it’s not my problem,” she says. “Maybe I want it to be.”
This time I scoff. Really? She has no idea what she’s saying.
I turn to look at her. We lock eyes for what seems like an eternity, then I quickly turn away, focusing once more on the road ahead.
Her words resonate in my head, her raw sincerity and genuine concern making me question everything I’ve ever known about relationships and human connection. But I’m afraid.
Afraid of letting someone in, afraid of facing my demons, afraid of getting too attached only to lose everything in the end.
After all, that’s been my experience.
So the drive is mostly silent. We pass through Colorado Springs, the iconic silhouette of Pikes Peak dominating the horizon. The air becomes crisper, the scent of pine lingering as the road climbs gradually in elevation. There are small towns nestled against the mountains.
“I always wonder who lives in places like these,” Diana says. “I know Snow Creek is pretty isolated, but it’s nothing compared to these small towns, hours away from the nearest airport.”
I nod slowly. “Probably is nice to get away from it all.”
Diana bites her lip. “Probably is.”
The traffic thins as we continue south, and the landscape begins to shift. Crossing into southern Colorado, the flat plains give way to rolling hills, and the jagged ridges of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains come into view.
“I don’t think I’ve seen the Rockies this far south,” Diana remarks. “I guess it’s easy to forget how long they really are.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Long.”
This is agonizing. But at least the views are pretty.
The road narrows and winds more as we approach the New Mexico border, and the scenery becomes increasingly rugged. Red rock formations begin to dot the landscape, their vibrant hues glowing as the sun starts to set. The air feels warmer, drier, and the land is more arid now, with sagebrush and juniper replacing the lush greenery of Colorado. There are towns speckled with adobe homes here. So different from the high-rises of Denver.
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to live in a house like that?” I offer.
Diana smiles. “So now you’re starting the conversation?”
I let out a short laugh. “Can’t let you have all the fun.”
“I guess you can’t.” Diana reaches across the car and runs her hand along my arm.
A chill runs up and down my spine. Is she still interested in me? We had a few great romps in the sack, but I kind of figured she thought that was a big mistake.
Of course, if she weren’t at least slightly interested in getting to know me better, she wouldn’t have asked to come along on this trip.
We cross the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge. The river cuts deep into the earth, carving a path through the rugged terrain, and the vast expanse of the gorge opens up beneath us. It’s gorgeous, but I hold my breath as we cross the bridge—they always make me a little bit nervous. Especially this one. We’re not surviving the drop if this bridge gives out.
I look over and see that Diana’s holding her breath, too.
We arrive in Taos just as the sun is slipping below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of purple and orange. It is a breathtaking sight, one that momentarily stuns me into silence.
But it’s nothing compared to the woman next to me.
“Wow,” Diana says, her eyes wide with awe. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it is.”
But I’m not talking about the sunset. I’m talking about the look on Diana’s beautiful face. She’s looking at it like it’s the first sunset she’s ever seen.
She finally looks away, turns toward me. “So where will we be spending the night?”
God.
The night.
A hotel room.
With Diana.
In my bed all night.
“Don’t know,” I say.
“We should probably figure that out,” she replies, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Unless you plan on us sleeping in the car?”
I glance at her quickly before focusing back on the road. “No, I don’t.”