Page 88 of Road Trip to Forever
I walk up the small stone path to the porch and punch in the door code Lola told me earlier. I find the living room and set her on a couch, grabbing a blanket to cover her legs. She doesn’t budge when I head back to the car and bring in our bags. I haul them to the bedroom and prop them against the wall.
The bathroom is next on my agenda. It’s large, with white floors, a walk-in shower, and a clawfoot tub. There’s a towel warmer and a fuzzy rug in front of a vanity.
Perfect.
I turn the faucet on, warm water filling the basin and steam rising from the porcelain. When I walk back to the living room, I find Lola curled on her side, her eyes half open.
“Is it morning?” she asks.
“Still nighttime,” I say.
“Oh.” She blinks and stretches her arms above her head. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
“I grabbed the suitcases. They’re in the bedroom. I also started the bathtub for you. Figured you could use some decompressing after a long day.”
“A bath? That sounds like heaven.”
“I’ll shower when you’re finished. I’m going to crash on the couch tonight so you can get some decent sleep. We need to be up early in the morning.”
“The couch?” Lola frowns and sits up. “Why?”
“There’s only one bed, and it’s fairly small. I figured you’d be more comfortable alone.”
“Why don’t we just share? We did the other night in the hotel. And in your guest room.”
“Because the only other spot in that hellhole was a rickety desk chair. This couch can at least fit my legs.”
“And last night? In the sleeping bags?”
“You were cold.”
“Right.” Lola nods and her eyes meet mine. We both know that’s not why we shared a sleeping bag. “If I asked you to stay in the bed with me, what would you say?”
I swallow and lean against the wall. I cross my arms over my chest and stare right back at her. “I’d say yes.”
“Okay.” She nods again. “I’m going to take a bath. You’re going to take a shower. Then we’re going to get in bed. Together.”
“That’s what you want?”
“Yes, Patrick. That’s what I want.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
TWENTY-FOUR
PATRICK
“Hey,”I say.
Lola looks up from her book and slips the receipt she’s using as a bookmark between the pages. It’s one of her new Mia Dunn ones she got tonight, and I made sure to write down each title so I can buy my own copies when we get home.
Her hair is wet from her bath, clinging to her shoulders and soaking her shirt. She can barely keep her eyes open, drowsiness threatening to overtake her. Still, she smiles at me with a beam that’s a shock to my heart. I wonder if there will ever be a day where it doesn’t feel like I’m seeing stars when she glances my way.
I doubt it.
“Hey,” Lola answers, setting the book down on the bedside table. “How was your shower?” She leans back against a stack of white pillows, her legs stretching out in front of her.
“Amazing. What about your bath?”
