Part 4 (2/2)

”Do what?”

”Go wherever we want. Have s.e.x everywhere.”

My stomach flip-flops, even though I know he has to be joking.

”Come on,” he says lightly. ”You're the one who's always telling me we should do something crazy.”

For a long moment, I say nothing. Is he really serious about this? I'm supposed to be encouraging him to go back. Not considering this ridiculous fantasy.

But G.o.d, I want to do it.

”I'm not sure we have enough money between us to rent a boat and sail to every ocean,” I force myself to point out.

”But we have a car,” he says. ”And there are at least forty-eight states we could drive to.”

He makes it sound so easy, so simple. And maybe it is simple. After all, he's the one who taught me that most things are. It's our brains and hearts that complicate things.

”You know you want to,” he says, and I can tell by his tone that he already knows he's won me over.

”Are you serious?” I ask him.

”Dead serious.” He pulls my face close to his again. ”s.e.x in every state. Isn't that what we said?”

I can't help it. I'm grinning.

”We'll figure out what to do about Alaska and Hawaii later,” he adds.

”You really mean this.”

His lips brush against my cheek as he speaks. ”Let's be crazy together.”

I should refuse him, but it's hard to convince myself that turning him away is the selfless thing to do when he's the one suggesting this insanity. And let's be honest-it is insane. But I want to ride this craziness for as long as possible.

”s.e.x in every state,” I repeat. ”I like the sound of that.”

”Everywhere,” he says, sliding his hand down across my a.s.s and yanking me toward him. ”Every way.”

CHAPTER FOUR.

We decide to get one of those giant road atlases of the United States they sell at gas stations. We have to dig through three layers of racy magazines to find one on the shelf at the place we stop, but I'm just grateful they still sell these things at all. Most people would just pull up an application on their phone or something. But my cell is back at the estate with the rest of my things, and Ward's phone is several years old-he can't do much but make calls and send text messages.

We prop the atlas up against the dash of Ward's car and flip through it page by page. Each map is a web of roads, a tapestry of colored lines. There's a page for every state, as well as close-ups of all the major cities. There's also a larger map of the entire continental United States. When I look at that page when I see how everything connects, it really does feel like we could go anywhere.

I've always loved maps. But I haven't held an atlas in my hands for years. My father gave me one once, back when I was a kid. I'd thrown a fit about something stupid and tried to run away. When I returned to my room, I found the atlas on my bed-with a note from him encouraging me to have a life of adventures.

This brings all of that back, and I'm not prepared for the grief that suddenly slams me in the gut.

I haven't thought about my father since I left the estate. I couldn't escape him there-I saw him everywhere I looked, smelled him in the empty hallways, felt the vibrations of his presence in the rooms he used to frequent-but out here, it's been easier to forget. To close my eyes and make him disappear with the rest of my problems.

Until now. It all comes rus.h.i.+ng forward, cras.h.i.+ng into me like a semi-truck, and a sob of shock escapes from my chest before I can even try to suppress it.

”What is it?” Ward asks. ”What's wrong?”

I close my eyes and swallow down the emotion. I can't constantly let myself fall into emotional crisis mode. It's not fair to Ward.

But I can't lie to him, either. I've already committed the biggest betrayal of his trust-I misled him about my ident.i.ty. I want everything else between us to be the truth.

”It just reminded me of my father,” I say. ”But I'm fine.”

He pulls the atlas toward him. ”We don't have to do this if-”

”No. I want to.”

He reaches over and turns my face toward his. I know he sees all the sadness in my eyes. I hate that he can read me so easily. It makes me feel too bare. At least when I was with Ian, I had some control, some sense of stability. I might have been openly grieving, but he always kept me steady. Now, though, even on my best of days, Ward throws my emotions into chaos. He can make my heart soar with just a word and then a moment later draw out my deepest pains and fears with nothing more than a look. I just want to feel like I'm on solid ground for a day. For an hour. For a single moment.

”You want to talk about this?” he says, his finger brus.h.i.+ng against my lip.

I try to focus on the comfort of his touch. I know what happens when I give myself over to thoughts about my father. I get overwhelmed and then everything goes numb. I want to be stronger than that.

”I'm fine,” I a.s.sure him again. ”Let's figure out where we're going.”

He's going to argue with me. I see it in his eyes. But before he can say a word, I grab the atlas and prop it back up on the dashboard.

”So we're about here,” I say, pointing to a spot on the Atlantic coast. There's a pen stuffed in the center console, and I grab it and draw a star on the map, just above the border between North and South Carolina. ”Which direction do we head? West? North? Or would you rather head down to Florida and explore some more beaches?”

Don't push me about my father, I beg silently. Please don't push me.

He must get the hint because he doesn't say a thing. He sits back, rubs his gingery stubble, and looks at the map.

”Well, we might as well hit the entire East Coast while we're here,” he says. ”I think the easiest route would be to go north. Hit every state between here and Maine.”

”Once we get up to New England, we can probably do multiple states in the same day,” I say, nodding in agreement.

”More than one a day?” And there it is-that cla.s.sic Ward grin. ”Sounds ambitious.” He's thinking about the other part of our goal-the s.e.x part. But if last night was any indication, I don't think we'll have any problems.

”I have faith in us,” I say. ”And we'll have plenty of practice along the way.”

He laughs and pulls me toward him across the seat. ”You can bet we will.”

His kiss is eager, but I sense tightness in his mouth. He's still worried about me. And when he pulls back, I see the concern in the depths of his eyes.

I'm worried about you, too, I want to say. He might accuse me sometimes of disappearing into my mind, but I'm not the only one whose life is a little insane right now. He has his own issues to figure out.

And if he doesn't want to go back to his father, then this is the next best thing. We need this trip, both of us. We need to be free, to be crazy, until we find the strength to deal with our demons. He might think he's doing this for me, but I'm doing it for him, too.

<script>