Page 55 of Dark Roads
“Did you just steal that?”
His white teeth flashed in the dark. “I’m the bike mechanic around here. Hailey and I used to—” He broke off, the smile fading, and turned around to slam the tailgate shut. “I’m going to crash with my buddies tonight.”
Beth looked at the other site. The guys were standing around their propane fire ring. She felt Jonny watching her as he brushed his hands on his jeans.
“Thirsty?” she asked him, holding up the bottle.
They sat closer this time. Beth didn’t know who moved first, but somehow they ended up side by side. Jonny’s arm felt warm pressed against hers, their legs touching. They’d been playing cards. He was fast, with a good poker face. She hadn’t won yet. She laughed and set her last cards down. Rested her head on her arms.
“Ugh. I have to go to bed.”
“I’ll wait until you’re locked in safe.” He’d already walked her to the outhouse. Stood outside and whistled a song, then balanced her when she came out and tripped over a root. Steadied her drink. Spun the cap back on the Coke bottle so it didn’t go flat. She noticed all those things. Noticed that he had a little dent at the top of his lips, that he smelled like wood and earth, but somehow in his own unique combination that wasn’t like anything else. He had a lazy way of looking at her, his eyelids half-mast, but the blue would light up when he was telling ajoke. When he laughed, he’d clutch at his chest, his head back, showing his tanned throat. He had a good voice. She closed her eyes a couple of times, just to hear the purr of it coming up his throat. Liquid-smooth. Her own personal bedtime story.
“You can stay in my tent.” She lifted her head. “Wait. You don’t have any blankets.”
He gestured over his shoulder. “I’ve got a sleeping bag.”
She laughed and gently poked him in the arm. “You came prepared.” He met her eyes with a questioning look, like he was trying to figure out if she was flirting. Was she? Maybe. “Please. I’d feel safer—knowing you were close by.”
“You sure? The Iceman says I’m a suspect, remember?”
“I can tell you’re a good person.” He looked startled and got to his feet so fast she wondered if he was leaving, but he just walked toward his truck. He grabbed a sleeping bag and tossed it into the tent. Still crouched with his hand on the zipper, he looked over at her.
“I’m not that good.”
Beth curled into the darkness of her car. She’d left the windows down a few inches for fresh air and could hear him tossing and turning in the tent, the soft whisper of nylon. She imagined he was uncomfortable on the ground. Maybe he’d give up and sleep at his friends’ site, but after a while the rustling stopped. He’d fallen asleep. She stared at the car ceiling, thinking.
She opened her door. It creaked loudly in the dark. The moon was full, and she didn’t need her flashlight. The other site was quiet. The music had died hours ago. She soft-stepped her way over to the tent, felt for the zipper, and then realized Jonny had left it open. Was it in case she needed him? Or maybe he’d hoped for this too.
The moon was shining through the mesh roof, turning his shape to shadowy blue, highlighting the planes of his face. Hewas bare-chested, only his bottom half in the sleeping bag. Jeans tossed to the side. One of his arms was up over his head. He was breathing deeply but not snoring. She crept up beside his body. If he woke suddenly, would he lash out? For a strange moment she wanted to see what he looked like angry. She wanted to see all his expressions.
She hovered her finger over the indent above his top lip, then slowly, slowly brought it down, let it settle in the warm groove.
His eyes flared open. His hand gripped her wrist, and she gasped. He loosened it as soon as he recognized her, but he didn’t speak a word.
She unzipped the side of the sleeping bag, slid in beside him, feeling the heat of his legs against hers. Her hair fell over his chest. She breathed in the masculine scent of his shoulders, his neck, jawline, scraped her cheek against the stubble. He shivered. She pressed her lips to his. He didn’t move. Not for one count, two, three. Then his hand slid up her arm and into her hair.
The tent was already warm when she woke, birds loud in the trees nearby. She was hungover, with gritty eyes, a dry mouth, and a headache that made her squeeze her eyes shut and pray that the birds would shut up. Jonny’s arm was under her cheek, his chest against her back.
“Man, I need water.” His voice startled her, and she flinched. He reached over her for his boxers and pulled them on, then his jeans. She sat up, holding the sleeping bag around her chest, and noticed a cigarette pack had fallen out of his pocket. She picked it up, looking at him.
“You smoke?”
He paused from where he was unzipping the tent, and glancedover his shoulder at her, the good humor now gone from his face. “No. I quit. It was a thing between me and Hailey. She never wanted me to smoke, but I always carried a pack, and she’d always wreck it.”
The way he was looking at her, she suddenly felt like she was holding something deeply personal, a relic, and, judging by the hint of a flush on his face, he regretted telling her.
She handed him the cigarettes and reached for her duffel bag. “I’ll meet you outside.”
After she was dressed, she crawled through the tent opening. He was leaning against the picnic table, watching the lake, and turned with a smile. She wanted to smile back, but she was a different Beth from last night. Now, in the bright morning sun, and sober, it was all too hard.
“You’re not working today, right?” He squinted at her. “We could hang out.”
She looked at him, startled. She must have told him last night that it was her day off. Sure, they could hang out. Go for a swim. He’d show her around. They could get to know each other sober. What music they liked, what made them laugh. Maybe he’d tell her about some of the people in town. He’d trust her and share memories. But then what? It couldn’t go anywhere.
“I’m not staying in Cold Creek for long.”
He gave her a questioning look. “Okay…?”
