Page 40 of Road Trip

Like he really did think I was all that.

The whole thing put a smile on my face for the rest of the morning.

We hung around the park for a while longer. Jacob took some pics of me feeding a squirrel, and I did a sketch of him sitting on a low rock wall with a bunch of lines depicting the layers of the canyon in the background. The sun’s rays bounced off his blond hair, highlights dancing, and he grinned widely as he leaned back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, posing. And since I didn’t have to hide my attraction anymore I took my time, making sure to capture the planes of his face, the golden hair dusting his forearms, and his gorgeous smile.

When Jacob came over and checked the finished product, he let out a low whistle. “This is really good.”

I hummed doubtfully. “I didn’t get your nose quite right.”

He bumped his shoulder against mine. “Just take the compliment, asshole.”

“Fine. Thanks.”

He laughed. “Wow, that sounded like it was actually painful.”

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t about to tell him that no matter how good the artist, a portrait could never capture the light in his eyes or the way he made me feel, because even to me that sounded super fucking sappy—and I was the one thinking it. “We should get going,” I said, rolling up my sketchbook and shoving it in my pocket.

After one last long look at the canyon—because seriously, when were we ever going to be here again?—we left the park and drove toward I-8, toward Yuma and whatever our last night together held.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

JACOB

172 miles to go

Yuma, AZ

Matt’s knee bounced distractingly and he tapped his fingers against his thigh. He was clearly nervous and I was too. I was still coming to terms with the fact that Matt had apparently been crushing on me forever and somehow I hadn’t noticed. I’d genuinely thought what we had was just a really intense friendship. Now that I knew better, I wondered how I’d been so blind—although thinking I was straight definitely had something to do with that.

I steered us toward the Travelodge I’d found in Yuma. It was a solid three stars this time, so we were almost guaranteed no bedbugs or police raids, which was why I’d picked this place over the cheaper alternatives. I wanted my last night with Matt to be special, and if that meant I had to make my budget stretch a little further when I started college, it was worth it.

Mattwas worth it.

Yuma was flat and dry and the color of cement dust. White stucco walls and red tiled roofs lined the streets, and palm trees and purple bougainvillea added to the occasional bursts of color.There were hazy mountains on the horizon that looked like they could have been days away.

“We’re going to that taco place for dinner,” Matt said, craning his head as we passed. “We’re so close to Mexico. The food here is gonna be amazing.”

We pulled into the hotel. The blast of air conditioning as we stepped inside the lobby was a relief even after the short walk from outside.

“Maybe the Mexican place delivers,” I said, and Matt raised his eyebrows. “Dude, it’s hot out there! I think they built this town on the surface of the sun!”

“We’ll go to dinner,” Matt said and held up a finger. “We’ll walk, because it’s seriously just in the next block. Then we can come back here and jump in the pool. It’ll be great.”

“Since when are you the optimist here?”

“Since I got myself a cute boyfriend,” he said with a grin that hit me like a gut punch.

Like apositivegut punch?

“Fine,” I found myself saying. “We’re walking to dinner.” I never had been able to say no to Matt.

“Sweet!” He shot me that grin again.

We checked in, and when we got to our room the first thing I did was drop the temperature on the AC as low as I could get it. Matt stood near the door taking in the room. It wasn’t anything fancy—it had one big bed with matching bedside tables and lamps, a tiny desk with a chair, and a flat-screen TV attached to the wall, all in varying shades of beige—but it was a lot nicer than our room in Albuquerque had been, and it was miles ahead of a two-man tent and a yoga mat. I dropped my bag in a corner of the room, kicked off my sneakers, and flopped backward onto the bed, arms spread wide as I soaked up the cool air. The bed dipped a second later as Matt threw himself down next to me, waving his arms about and making a snow angel in the plush comforter.

“What?” he asked when I turned my head to look at him.

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