Page 39 of I Wanna Be Your Lager

Lach stops with his fork halfway to his mouth and meets my gaze. “Is something wrong with your omelet?”

“No. It tastes great.”

He drops his fork to his plate. His attention is now fully on me. “The crease in your forehead tells me otherwise. Are you feeling okay?”

“My stomach’s a little queasy.”

“Have some water.” He slides his glass across the table for me.

“Thanks.” I give him a tight-lipped smile before I swallow a big gulp.

Lach finishes his pancakes while I pick at my bacon. Everything else I leave untouched. When we’re finished, he pays for our breakfast, and we continue on the road.

While Lach drives for the next two hours, we make small talk about the various businesses we pass and funny billboards like the one that read “Quality Erections” for a construction company. At the three-hour mark, my eyelids drift closed.

I stir awake and stretch my limbs as much as I can while my eyes adjust to the light. We’re parked at a gas station, but when I turn toward the driver’s seat, it’s empty. A second later, Lach steps through the glass double doors with a plastic bag in hand. I can’t keep my eyes off him as he strolls toward the truck. He runs a hand through his hair. His gaze connects with mine through the windshield, and a flutter floats through my body. His gaze, unlike any other, makes me feel seen, understood, and cherished. It’s soft and gentle but also screams, “I want to rip your clothes off and have my way with you.” And I greenlight that idea.

Lach opens the door and climbs into the cab. He sets a plastic bag on the center console before tilting his head toward me. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?” His words are soft. Comforting.

“Good.” I adjust myself in my seat, hoping my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel from fantasizing about Lach stripping me naked. “I don’t know what it was, but the nap certainly helped.”

“I didn’t want to wake you, but since you’re awake I got you some water, snacks, and a turkey sandwich. In case you were up for eating since you didn’t have much of your breakfast.”

My heart swells at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

“I wasn’t sure if you liked mayo or mustard, so I got both.” He holds up the two condiment packets.

“Actually, both are perfect. Mayo on top and mustard on the bottom.”

“I like the bottom. Mustard is what I meant. I also like mustard on the bottom.”

A laugh bubbles out of me.

A pink blush fills his scruff-covered cheeks. “Also, I got sour gummy worms.”

My eyes widen, and I snatch the bag from his grasp and rip the top off. “How did you know my favorite road snack?” I reach inside and pull out a brightly colored worm-shaped candy. My lips press together when the sweet and tart hit my tastebuds.

The corner of his mouth curves into a smile. “I didn’t. But they’re my favorite too.”

I grab another sour gummy worm from the bag and pass it to him. He takes it and pops it into his mouth. When he’s done chewing, he says, “On that note—you want to use the bathroom before we get back on the road?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” I unbuckle my seat belt and climb out of the truck. A few minutes later, I return, and Lach has the water bottles in the cup holders and my sandwich laid out on the center console. I can’t help but smile as I climb into the passenger seat. “How far did we get?”

“Not as far as I’d like. There was a car accident south of Indianapolis. Traffic was at a standstill for a while until they were able to re-route us. I’m thinking we’ll maybe stop outside of Chicago for the night and finish the rest of the drive tomorrow.”

I take a drink of my water. “Yeah, that sounds good.” I won’t complain about spending another night alone with Lach because I don’t know what’s going to happen once we get back to Harbor Highlands. He may be reluctant to pursue anything between us, but I know he wants this as much as I do. I just need to convince him how amazing we can be.

I pull my camera from my bag and stare out the window, looking for inspiration. Almost a month has passed since I’ve been able to exercise this creative outlet. I’ve missed it. I lift the camera, closing one eye. A sense of calm washes over me every time I look through a lens. I twist to face Lach. His profile fills the viewfinder. A strong, scruff-covered jaw. His nose is perfectly straight, with a narrow bridge and a refined tip. His long, dark lashes blink once. Twice.

He twists his head toward me. “What are you doing?”

“Taking your picture.”

“Out of everything surrounding us, there has to be a better view than me.”

I scrunch my nose, pretending to volley his words around. “I beg to differ.” The soft click of the camera fills the cab, capturing this moment.

With a chuckle, he reaches across the seat, his fingers brushing against the camera. I lean away. Now it’s my turn to laugh. Everything with Lach is so easy. Carefree. Fun. All the things that have been missing from my life in the past… all my life.

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