One True Loves(69)

The cop closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them back up, he’s made his decision.

“Son, get out of the driver’s seat and let this young woman drive.”

“Yes, sir,” Jesse says, but neither of us move.

“Now,” the officer says.

Jesse immediately opens up the door and stands as I get out of the car on my side and switch places with him. I walk past the officer and I can tell he’s not exactly entertained by all of this. I get in the driver’s seat and the officer closes the door for me.

“It’s cold as hell out here and I don’t feel like standing on the side of the road trying to figure out if you two are pulling something over on me. I’m deciding to err on the side of . . . gullibility.”

He bends down farther to look right at Jesse. “If I catch you driving a car without a license in this town again, I will have you arrested. Is that clear?”

“Absolutely,” Jesse says.

“All right,” the cop says, and then he turns back. “Actually, I’d like to see your license, miss.”

“Oh, of course,” I say, turning toward my purse. It’s at Jesse’s feet. Jesse leans forward and grabs my wallet from it, pulling my license out.

“I don’t have all night,” the cop says.

I take it from Jesse and hand it over to the cop. He looks at it and then at me. He hands it back.

“Let’s stick to the speed limit, Ms. Blair,” he says.

“Certainly,” I say.

And then he’s gone.

I roll up the window and the car is once again dark and starting to warm. I hand my license back to Jesse.

I watch the cop pull onto the road and drive away. I put on my blinker.

I look over at Jesse.

He’s staring at my driver’s license.

“You changed your name back?”

“What?”

He shows me my own ID. He points to my name. My younger face smiling back at me.

“You changed your name,” he says again. This time it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” I say. “I did.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“Are you OK?” I ask.

He puts the license back in my wallet and gets hold of himself. “Yeah,” he says. “Totally. You thought I was dead, right? You thought I was gone forever.”

“Right.”

I don’t mention that I’m not sure I was ever really comfortable changing my name to Emma Lerner in the first place, that I am and have always been Emma Blair.

“OK,” he says. “I get it. It’s weird to see, but I get it.”

“OK,” I say. “Cool.”

I pull onto the road and I drive us back to the cabin. It’s silent inside of the car.

We both know why the other one isn’t talking.

I’m mad at him for getting pulled over.

He’s mad at me for changing my name.

It isn’t until I pull up in front of the cabin, and the tires crunch over the gravel, that either of us speaks up.

“What do you say we call it even?” Jesse says with a smirk on his face.

I laugh and reach for him. “I’d love to,” I say. “Even-steven.” I kiss him firmly on the lips.

Jesse grabs the pizza and the two of us run out of the car, heading straight to the cabin.

We shut the door behind us, keeping out the cold and the wind and the cops and the fancy restaurants where we don’t like the wine.

It’s warm in here. Safe.

“You know, you saved my ass out there,” Jesse says.

“Yes!” I say. “I did! You’d be halfway to jail by now if it wasn’t for me.”

He kisses me against the door. I sink into him.

“Emma Blair, my hero,” he says, a slightly sarcastic edge in his voice.

I’m still a little mad at him and now I know he’s still mad at me, too.

But he pushes into me and I open myself up to him.

He runs his hands along my stomach, underneath my shirt. I gently bite his ear.

“You know where I think we should do this?” he says as he kisses me.

“No, where?”

He smiles, pointing to the kitchen counter.

I smile and shake my head.

“Remember?” he says.

“Of course I remember.”

He pulls me over there and stands up against it, the way he did that day. “I couldn’t get your dress off, so I had to push the bottom of it up around your . . .”

“Stop,” I say, but not emphatically. I say it the way you say, “Don’t be silly” or “Give me a break.”

“Stop what?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you on the kitchen counter.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because it’s gross.”

“It’s not gross.”

“It is gross. We ate there this afternoon.”

“So we won’t eat there again.”

That’s all it takes. A very simple, very misconceived idea—and I’m doing what just thirty seconds ago I said I wouldn’t.

We are loud and we are fast, as if there’s a time limit, as if there’s a race to the finish. When we are done, Jesse pulls away from me and I hop down. I see a line of sweat on the counter.