Page 70 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

“I’ll get them.” He swung those long legs out of the car, got out and loaded up my bags. Then he met me on the sidewalk beside the Cadillac. No one would have ever known it had been scraped on a guardrail, then gouged with a key. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.” I walked up close, placing my palm on his heart to feel the heat of him against my skin one last time. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He shifted his sunglasses into his hair. “Promise me something.”

“Okay.” I nodded, tense as I waited for his demand. Would he ask me to stay? Or would he ask me to come back? If he asked me to return to Summers, I wouldn’t be able to say no.

“Promise me if you ever need anything—a friend, a place to crash for a week, a piece of pie—you’ll use that phone and call me.”

I smiled, releasing the breath I’d been holding. “Promise.”

My hand fell from his heart. My forehead took its place as I snaked my arms around his waist.

He wrapped me up tight, whispering into my hair. “Goodbye, Londyn McCormack.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Goodbye, Brooks Cohen.”

His hands came to my face, lifting my cheek off his chest to brush his lips against mine. He broke the kiss too soon, and I took a step back.

I opened my mouth, but there was nothing more to say, so I walked around the hood of the car and settled into the driver’s seat. I moved it up from where Brooks had adjusted it for his long legs. I shifted the mirrors. Then I gripped the steering wheel.

“All good?” Brooks leaned his elbows on the passenger door.

I nodded. “All good.”

Except wasn’t it supposed to feel like home? When I’d climbed behind the wheel in Boston, I’d been hit with such a sense of . . . rightness. That feeling was missing today. Maybe after a few miles I’d feel more comfortable in the seat.

A pained look crossed Brooks’s gaze before he covered it with an easy, lopsided grin. He stood, tapped the side of the car with his knuckles and stepped back.

I twisted the key, igniting the engine to life. Then I gave him one last look before shifting the car into drive and easing away from the curb.

He lifted a hand to wave. I saw it from the corner of my eye but refused to turn. My eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead.

I made it twenty feet before my resolve shattered and I cast my gaze to the rearview mirror.

There he was, tall and strong, standing where the car had been with his hand held in the air.

“Damn it.” Tears flooded my eyes but I kept my foot on the gas pedal. I only glanced at the road to make sure I wouldn’t crash into the motel. Otherwise, my eyes were in the mirror.

Brooks stayed there, in that spot with his arm held high, until I rounded a bend in the highway and he was gone.

“Shit.” I swiped at the tears as they dripped down my face. I sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to get my heart to sink down from my throat.

This would get easier, right? Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but by the time I made it to California, I wouldn’t feel so heartbroken.

I blew out a breath, rubbed the sting from my nose, then reached for the sunglasses I’d tucked into my purse. With them hiding my watery eyes, I focused on the road ahead.

Summers disappeared behind me quickly, but the first five miles past town were excruciating. So were the five after that.

It should feel better, shouldn’t it? This is what I’d wanted, right? I was free to follow my own impulses. I wasn’t trapped in the idea of someone else’s conventional life.

I hauled my purse onto my lap, driving with one hand as I dug for the phone in the bottom. I pulled it out, needing to talk to someone who might understand why I was doing this.

“Hello?” Gemma answered my call on the second ring.

“Hey.”

“Londyn? Where have you been? You promised you’d call.” She sighed. “Are you okay?”