With This Heart(43)

I huffed and glared at him. “Don’t flatter yourself, bucko.”

He nodded but couldn’t wipe the grin off. “Who else?” He reached out and wrapped his hands around my hips, tugging me closer to him. Our breath mingled between our mouths.

I rolled my eyes. “Countless movie stars. Dozens of them. You are hardly special at all. I tell Orlando Bloom that I love him pretty much daily.”

Beck’s head dropped forward as he chuckled. “Fair enough.”

His hands snuck under my shirt, dragging across my skin and squeezing my hips. The move emboldened me and I leaned forward to kiss him. It felt like I lit a match. He pressed me down onto his lap and I rolled my hips, fighting the urge to just let him take me completely.

“ Are we going to have sex?” I asked once he lifted his head again.

“ Not tonight,” he answered, squeezing my hips.

“ Then I should probably put some underwear on,” I answered.

“ Probably so,” he relented, letting me go.

I shifted around him and started digging in my bag for a fresh pair and some shorts. The rain was still tapping on the roof, but it had lightened up since we arrived at the rest stop. Once I had all of my clothes back on, I grabbed a hooded sweatshirt out of my bag and picked up the black urn.

“ Want to spread some ashes with me?” I asked, cradling the urn in my arm.

Beck had pulled on a hooded jacket as well and was still wearing his dark jeans. We looked like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde, on the run from the world.

“ What’s in there?” he asked.

“ My dog, remember?” I answered swiftly. I feared he would ask again eventually, but I wanted to keep it private. He would make fun of me if I told him the truth.

“ I still don’t believe you. It’s not your old heart, is it?” His eyes were glued to the urn.

“ Ew! What? No, I don’t know what they did with my heart after the procedure. It’s in a biohazard bag somewhere probably.” The idea of spreading the ashes of my old heart was poetic, but mostly just plain disgusting.

Beck nodded with a hint of a frown. I think he secretly thought he’d been right about that this whole time.

“ Where do you want to spread them?” he asked, climbing into the front seat so he could exit on his side.

“ Just around the rest stop,” I answered.

“ That’s so gross, Abby,” Beck laughed.

“ Not where people will walk or anything!” I exclaimed, feeling defensive. “Maybe they have a garden or something.”



Surprisingly, the rest stop had no garden. I guess your tax dollars don’t allow for those sorts of things. Instead, Beck hummed the tune of that sad song they always play on dog adoption commercials as I dumped some ashes onto the grass behind the bathrooms. It stuck to the ground. The rain made it instantly soggy, like a gray soup. The whole time I tried to be somber, but in the end it didn’t work. Beck made me laugh all the way back to camper. It was impossible to be sad with him around.

While he unrolled our sleeping bags and made a little pallet for us to sleep on, I found my phone to check if I’d missed any calls from Caroline or my mom. The screen was black when I tried to swipe it open. Dead. I’d forgotten to charge it the night before and now any missed calls would have to wait for the morning.

“ Is your phone dead as well?” Beck asked from behind me.

“ Yeah. Stupid rain storm,” I huffed, tossing my phone back into my purse. “Can we eat our vending machine meal now?”

Beck winked. “Only the best for you.”

…



The next morning, Beck and I woke up late and ended up wandering into a diner to charge our phones and get some much-needed food. Crackers and cookies could only tide me over for so long.

Angie’s Southern Diner looked straight out of the 1950’s. The booths were covered in red and white striped upholstery. The tables had a red gloss coating. Elvis blared from the crackly speaker system and waitresses with tired expressions walked around in pink poodle skirts

“ This place is awesome,” I said, sliding into the booth seat. There was an outlet just beneath the table, so Beck and I both plugged in our phones so that they could charge while we ate.

“ Agreed, let’s open up a place like this back in Dallas.”

“ I’m in,” I answered, taking the menu from the waitress and offering her a quick ‘thanks’.

Beck ordered us two waters and then looked back toward me. “What would we call it?”

“ A and B’s Vending Machine Emporium,” I offered.

“ How about just: Abby Mae’s.”

I laughed. “We can’t serve any meat though.”

Beck’s eyes lit up. “Let’s replace all the meat with chocolate cake.”

Just then, the waitress came back and we had to scramble to decide what we wanted to order. I ended up ordering a salad that was “maybe organic” and Beck ordered a burger, fries, and chocolate milkshake.

“ That’s disgusting.” I scrunched my nose when the plate of heaping food was set in front of him.

I started picking at my salad with my fork. Suddenly, I was no longer satisfied with my heart healthy choice.

“ It might be terrible for me, but it is definitely not disgusting,” Beck clarified.