Page 127 of Burning Skies
Because I don’t think I can do this. What if my father pressures me to marry that asshole at some Vegas chapel?
I love Beau. We might have issues, but if I go to Vegas now, I feel like I’ll lose him forever.
I can’t get on that plane. Iwon’tget on that plane.
If I head through the backyard, will the limo driver see me? With my heart in my throat, I open the glass door in the vestibule, ready to put that theory to the test, when Adrian rushes past me.
I get a brilliant idea. “Adrian, hey.”
He stops in his tracks and looks back at me. “Yeah?”
“Where are you going?”
His brow furrows. “To get the newspaper kids some dinner. I was thinking Chinese.” He heads for his truck, and like a lunatic, I run after him.
“Can I come with you? I’ll help you carry everything.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy.
Maybe I am.
I’m not sure how long I can avoid going home, but this excuse is as good as any. I’ll get some dinner first. Ian can’t expect me to fly across the country in a Cessna on an empty stomach. At least, that’s what I’ll tell him while I plan how to get out of this situation.
Relief that I’m not going to Vegas hits me hard. I don’t know how this is going to work out, but it doesn’t involve my father twisting my arm to do something I don’t want to. That’s not love. That’s him treating me like a business transaction.
And if that’s all I am to him, why would I trade my entire life for bad decisions he made?
“Um. Yeah, you can come with me,” Adrian says slowly, unlocking his old truck.
After he unlocks the passenger door, I drop my bag in the footwell and slide onto the bench seat. I click the belt and smile at him when he joins me. “Thanks for letting me tag along.” I’m buzzing with relief. With anticipation of seeing Beau. With glee that I’m not going to marry some asshole who thinks he can snap his fingers to get me to do his bidding.
Adrian coughs. “No problem. Listen, I need to stop by my place first. It’s not far from the restaurant.”
“That’s fine. Where did you order? I’ll call in something for myself.”
“Um.” He nods slowly as he wipes his forehead. “Chopsticks.”
“Great. I love that place.” I dial. When the lady answers, she puts me on hold. There’s some traffic, but Adrian takes a few quick turns down some side roads, and a minute later pulls up in front of his apartment. “Be right back.”
As I wait for him, I glance around his small truck. It’s an ancient Ford.
Something catches my eye on the floor, and I lean forward.Isthat a hole in the footwell?I nudge it with my shoe, and it widens. Holy crap. His truck is so rusted it’s falling apart. I can literally see the pavement below. Yikes.
When the lady finally returns, I give her my order. “I’ll take a sweet and sour chicken with a side of egg rolls. And can you pack it with Adrian Rogers’ order?”
“Who?”
I repeat his name. “He works for the high school.”
“Sorry. I don’t know who that is, but I’m new here.”
“Maybe it’s under the name of the newspaper, theLedger?”
“I don’t have an order like that.”
I watch Adrian jog out of the house with a duffle bag. “Really? I’m guessing it’s a big order.” Probably enough for a dozen students.
“No, sorry.”
