Destined to Be by Harlow James

Author:Harlow James [James, Harlow]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Dean, Present Day

“Buckle up, P. We’re in for a long drive, about nineteen hours total by my calculations.” I toss a look over at Pauline after she hoisted herself into the cab of my truck, mentally preparing myself for what will probably one of the longest weeks of my life. This trip is my last ditch effort to confirm the existence, or lack thereof, of a relationship between her and me. I hope I can handle the outcome either way.

“Don’t take this the wrong way Dean,” she says, “But what is the point of lifting this truck so far off of the freaking ground, I feel like I’m scaling a mountain to get up in here! I mean, I know for a fact you’re not trying to overcompensate for something.” She glances down at the juncture between my legs. “So what’s the deal?”

Her words elicit a full belly laugh from me, tickling me pink with the thought that she remembers just how much heat I’m packing between my legs. I narrow my eyes at her, flashing her my best panty-dropping smile, hoping that in fact, her panties will drop at one point or another during this week. I suddenly feel the inherent need to remind her what waits beneath my jeans.

“Glad to know you remember the most important details of our relationship,” I tease her, warranting a shake of her head at me. “The lift looks good, P. It’s blatantly simple.”

She shrugs. “I guess I’ll just never understand boys and the things they do to their perfectly decent trucks.”

I turn the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life as I reverse out of her parking lot and make our way out of town. My phone is primed and ready to go with a playlist I designed just for our trip and the app I downloaded to provide us with driving directions. I guess you could say I put a lot of thought into tiny details essential to expressing my need to make these days together count entirely.

Guns & Roses’ ‘Sweet Child of Mine’ filters through the speakers as we coast along the road leading us out of Hopetown and towards I-80, the nearest freeway leading out of Nebraska. Pauline starts drumming her fingers on her thigh, clad in black leggings, her head bopping along to the beat of the song. She’s staring out the passenger side window, gripping her coffee cup in her other hand, her torso covered in a dark green sweater. The light coming over the horizon as the sun begins to rise casts a shine over her face that signals my heart to beat erratically for this woman. She’s mine, I know she is, I just have to make her see it over the next few days, the desperation filling my chest and mind.

“You know, I made a playlist for this trip I think you’ll appreciate,” I chime in as the song continues.

“I have no doubt,” she replies, never glancing my way as she sips her drink and we continue to drive.

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