Page 53 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

He smiles, and my heart flutters at the sight. No, Isabella. No. Stop it. It’s just a drive.

As we head out to the parking lot, Joel jumps in the back seat of the station wagon, taking no time to ball up a few pieces of clothing to put under his head before lying down across the seat. Dave shakes his head, his dark blond hair swaying. He walks meto the passenger-side door, and I’m surprised by the chivalry when he opens it for me.

“Thanks,” I say, sure my cheeks are flaming. If only my heart would calm down.

Dave slides casually into the driver’s seat and follows James’s black van back out onto the interstate, and after only five miles, the sounds of soft snores reach us from the back. Dave and I look over our shoulders to find Joel fast asleep, and even though I had the absolute worst morning in months, I actually smile.

“I thought Key was the one who snores,” I say.

Dave grins. “Both of them do. They used to share a single room bachelor apartment back in Iowa. Pretty sure they used to wake each other up.”

My eyes widen. “Sharing one bedroom? Sounds like it would interfere with their . . . social activities.”

Dave rolls his lips, his smile settling into a smirk. “It didn’t.”

My face must look shocked, because Dave looks away from the road for a moment and laughs. I’m still trying to sort through that information in my head. “So they would just wait outside while the other . . . ?” I trail off, deep in thought.

Dave glances at me, that look of amusement still dancing on his face. “Not always.”

“Not always, meaning sometimes they—? Oh.”

“Yeah, they’re really good at sharing.”

“Wow, okay.”

“If you get any redder, I’ll have to start calling you Rudolph,” Dave teases.

I clear my throat, glance out the window, and try to erase the mental image of Joel and Key with the same woman. Like some gigantic fleshy pile of throbbing bodies.

“You’re picturing it, aren’t you?”

I bury my face in my hands and try not to laugh. “I’m trying not to.”

“Uh oh,” he says, pointing at my face. “You’ve reached disco ball status. That face is so red you could light up the dance floor.”

I quickly pull my sweater over my head to block myself from his stare. “Stop, oh my god!” Then it bursts out of me. Laughter. Pure, unfiltered laughter that makes my eyes water and my breath come out in sharp pants. Finally, I regain some control, my laughs fizzling out into chuckles then finally a wistful hum as I wipe my cheeks.

“It’s nice to hear you laugh,” Dave says quietly.

Peeking out of my sweater, I find him stealing sideways glances at me. “I feel like I haven’t in a while.”

“You needed it.”

There’s my heart fluttering again. “Yeah, well, life’s been shitty lately.”

He frowns, then reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. “Here,” he says, holding out a folded five-dollar bill.

“Are you trying to buy a smile?” I ask teasingly.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Okay, first of all, smiles shouldn’t be bought, they should be earned. And second,” he continues, pushing the bill into my hand, “I paid for your food, so you can have this back.”

I stare at the money in my hand. It’s still folded the same way as it was when I put it down in the diner. “No, Dave, you—you didn’t have to do that,” I stammer, holding the money back out to him. “I’m more than capable of paying for my own things.”

He pushes my hand holding the money back at me, and that small contact zings through me like an electric current. “I know. I wanted to. Consider it a small consolation prize for having such a shitty time lately.”

My lips part as I try to formulate an argument, but he turns away, looking out his window.I assume the conversation is over?Sighing, I tuck the bill into my bra, and when I look up, I noticehow Dave’s eyes flick back to the road and the way a muscle in his jaw flexes.

“Thank you,” I say quietly. “I appreciate it. The meal and the laughs.”

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