Ten Below Zero(48)

The drive was a long one, the longest we’d done in a single day so far, which wasn’t saying much since it was only the third day of the road trip. Part of me couldn’t believe it was only the third day. It felt like it’d been longer. At the same time, I was reminded of how little I knew about Everett.

“What’s your last name?”

Everett turned over to me, sunglasses shielding his eyes. “Seriously? You’re asking that now?”

I shrugged. “Probably should have asked it sooner, but I’m asking now. Mira is going to grill you tonight. I should know the basics.”

He turned eyes back to the road. “O’Callaghan.”

“Irish?”

He looked at me with that look I was growing to loathe, that “duh” look.

When he didn’t say anything else, I asked, “Aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“I already know it, Parker Sloane. And before you accuse me of something stupid, remember I had your credit card that first night we met. And then you told me about Morris Jensen. I would have figured it out that way, too.”

I felt it, that rumble of annoyance. We’d had a relatively easy-going morning too. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-six. I already know you’re twenty-one, before you get your panties in a twist over me not asking you your age.”

The annoyance was simmering, threatening to boil over. “My panties aren’t in a twist.”

“Not yet,” he said. He slid his eyes over to me and pulled down his sunglasses. “But tonight? They will be.”

“You’re pretty sure of yourself,” I commented. I sat back in the seat and forced my eyes to face forward.

“I am,” he agreed. “I’m also pretty sure about you. Some of the time.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. Why did Everett inspire the most childish behavior out of me? Before I could say anything, he was pulling off the road, into the entrance of the Four Corners. He paid the fee and parked the car.

“Hey Parker?” he asked, turning to look at me.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go stand in four states at once.” He exited the car before my hand was even on the seatbelt release.

I scrambled after him, nearly falling onto the pavement as I exited the car. I laughed. It was short, loud, but I actually laughed. It stretched my cheeks and lasted for just a few seconds, but I laughed. When I looked up, Everett was staring at me.

“That’s a scary sound,” he said. “What is it you’re doing with your mouth that causes that sound?”

I stalked towards him, wanting to feel annoyance but all I felt was…light. “It was my laugh. Don’t be rude. You’re supposed to say nice things to me.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him towards the monument. “It didn’t sound as awful as the first time I heard it.”

I yanked my hand away. “That’s still not nice.”

He turned to me and pushed his sunglasses up on his head. With a sly grin, he leaned in. “You look incredible when you come.”

My eyes popped open wider than they ever had. “That’s…” I started. “That’s…not appropriate.”

“But it’s still nice. Really, really nice.”

And then he was off, jogging towards the monument, leaving me standing there slack-jawed.

When I finally caught up, Everett was sitting on a bench on the Arizona side. He held a hand out to me. “Stand with me.”

Reluctantly, I slipped my hand in his. He led me to the circle in the center of the monument. He turned so we were facing each other, with our feet directly on the lines that intersected. And then he pulled me in for a hug. I stopped breathing for a second. Had he hugged me before? I couldn’t remember. I closed my eyes for a moment. I was in his arms, breathing in that scent that belonged only to him. If he had hugged me, I would have realized it.

It was my first hug in years. So long, I couldn’t recall my last one. His arms were safe. I couldn’t help it: I snuggled closer. We stood in four states at once, together, holding each other for real for the very first time. My heart skipped several beats and my breathing returned to normal as I settled in. It was the nicest thing I’d felt in years. Who knew that two arms wrapped around you could feel so completely right?

I wasn’t sure how long we stood there, hugging each other. But it was the most connected I’d felt with another human in my life. Realizing that, I pushed away when the feelings got to be too much.

I backed up and tucked my hair behind my ear, looking everywhere by Everett.

“Come on, we’re on a deadline.” He grabbed my hand again and walked with me back to the car.

I was quiet on the walk back to the car because my mind was such a mess. I couldn’t decide how I felt about the hug. It was just a hug, but it was also the first human contact I’d had in years that wasn’t violent, sexual, or educational.

When we neared the car, I pulled my hand away from Everett’s and walked to my side, jumping in before he could say anything. I needed emotional and physical distance from him.

It was just a hug, I tried telling myself. But some other part of me didn’t listen.



Just after six that evening, we pulled into the driveway of the small hotel that Mira had given us directions to. The hotel was settled in the mountains of Colorado, off a dirt road. The entire trip, a million thoughts had run into my mind. And now that we had pulled into this hotel, I was even more curious.