Page 41 of Speeding Hearts

God, last night. I remembered the moment she’d squealed, falling onto the grass. I remembered lying awake with her and talking into the night. I remembered the dream I’d had, where I’d been full-on fucking her in some nebulous, ethereal place. Then I’d woken up, and there she was, right next to me, her ass in my hand.

I groaned, running back into the trailer. I heard the slam of Mom’s door.

“Good morning!” she called in a sing-song voice. I ran up to Stella, thrusting the clothes at her. Then, I hesitated. She looked bewildered. Nervous. I’d wanted to kiss her, to tell her it was fine, my mom wouldn’t see, and even if she did, she’d probably be thrilled I was with a woman.

Even if it wasn’t Victoria.

I held back, and the moment passed. Stella was frantically pulling her clothes on, and as she did, it was like a reminder of everything that was more real, more serious, than just us going back to normal life. Her clothes were stained with dirt. The bandage on her arm—I’d forgotten her injury in the thick of everything—stood out now, reminding me that she’d gotten it because I wasn’t there.

She was here, in this trailer, because I hadn’t been there when she’d needed me and because I hadn’t moved her from the motel when I’d had the chance.

Stella finished getting her clothes on. They looked damp still; uncomfortable.

“Well?” she said. “Are we going out to face the music?”

“There won’t be any music,” I said. “My mom won’t care—”

“I’ll care, Dean.”

Shit. She was mad. Of course she was mad. I hadn’t told her Mom would be coming this morning. Getting naked just now wasn’t exactly the smartest thing to do when I should have known we’d be interrupted.

Getting naked with Stella wasn’t the smartest thing to do, period.

It was the worst thing.

“Hello?” Mom called. I glanced out the window. She was standing in the grass, holding a picnic basket. I could tell she didn’t want to come any further to respect our privacy. I rubbed my hand over my head, trying to clear the storm clouds gathering there before heading out to talk to Mom. I needed to tell her to go easy. To not get too excited.

But in a flash, Stella was up off the bed, brushing past me, out the door first.

I groaned.

“Hi,” Stella said brightly, her voice streaming in through the door. “You must be Mrs.—”

“Hughes. I kept my husband’s name—got kind of used to it.”

They laughed easily, and I slipped into the tiny bathroom.

When I stepped outside a few minutes later, Mom and Stella were in animated conversation, Mom clearly beaming. When she saw me, she raised her eyebrows and smiled broadly.

Don’t get too attached.

Everything was going well. Too well.

As Mom and Stella got into a discussion about the motel, with Mom informing her of the latest information they’d been sharing on the news, I took the basket of food from her hand. I was starving.

There was a carafe of coffee in there and two mugs. Two plastic containers, which I opened up to find pancakes with berries and whipped cream. The cream and berries had slid to the side but looked no less appealing. I checked my phone as I sat down on one of the chairs facing the creek. It was only eight o’clock, but I was already late for work. I fired off a text to Stu, telling him I’d be in soon, and then scrolled through my missed texts. There were several from Dad. All along the lines ofwhere the hell was I, had I forgotten about him, he was hungry.

The cloud over my head darkened.I’d have to stop by his place on the way in.

Then, I saw a text from Victoria. She knew somehow that Stella had been staying at the motel and asked if she was okay.

My stomach twisted. Victoria and I weren’t together. Far from it. But she was being kind, and I knew she’d still be wounded by the fact that Stella and I had been together last night.

Why did I have to hurt everyone I ever came near?

“Dean!” Mom was calling my name. Had she said it more than once?

I looked up. “Yeah?”

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