Page 22 of Give Me Perfect Love

He nods.

I exhale and adjust my hat as I look out the small window inside the office, and then my eyes land on her car.

At the bar.

Holy shit.

“Thanks,” I say, darting out the door. I don’t have this same view from where my car is parked. She’s down the street at a goddamn bar, while I’m sitting here about to go Britney Spears and have a fucking meltdown.

I yank open the car door and start the engine. The classic roars to life, and I spin tires as I head down the street.

Chapter Seven

Kathrine

I’m drowning in ’80s classic rock. The bar has gotten a little more crowded in the past thirty minutes, and I’ve gotten a little drunker.

Axl Rose belts out lyrics about the month of November and rain. I’m tipsy and swaying as he croons.

I’ve always been a fan of Guns N’ Roses, but I’ve never seen them in concert. I think I’ll have to rectify that.

Sooner than later.

Where’s my phone, anyway? I pat my pockets. “I can look up tickets now.”

My arm is bumped into and I teeter sideways.

A hand comes out to steady me. “Whoa,” a voice says. “Didn’t mean to knock you over.” He mumbles under his breath, “There must be a senior discount going on in here. Look at all the silver backs. Well, besides you.” He chuckles and it’s not pervy or uncomfortable. It’s genuine.

I giggle at my looseness and slowly turn my head to the voice beside me.

My eyes blink and I lean in a little closer, shutting one eye to focus better on the man in front of me. Gray eyes, salt and pepper hair. An honest smile and a sense of humor I’d remember anywhere.

“Mills?” I ask with a goofy grin.

“Kathrine. Is that you?” he asks. “Holy shit.”

I reach out and give the man a hug.

“It’s good to see you,” I say.

“Good to see you, too, darlin’. It’s been a longgg time.” He stretches out the G in long.

I find my seat and shake my head. “How have you been?”

He grabs the beer that’s placed in front of him and nods at the bartender in thanks. “Can’t complain. Road has been good to me.”

“You’re still trucking it then?” I ask before taking a sip from my own beer.

“Yep. Still going at it.” He tilts his head at me. “Wait. Why are you here? I rode through here some years back and the people at the diner said you’d left town.”

“I did, Mills.” I nod my head. “I finally got out of this piece of shit place.”

This crappy little town used to be a pit stop on Mills’ truck route, but then he got a different route and I got the hell out of Dodge. Mills stopped coming before I left, though, and I missed talking to him something fierce. You see, Mills had what I didn’t.

He had freedom.

He had a glimpse of the outside world.

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