Then an image rushed through my mind, and my hands clenched. I hadn’t felt this level of rage in a long time. Seeing that fuck with his hand around her arm, yanking her toward his truck, made me see red. I left her alone to go into the stop, not thinking anything about it. Once I made it inside I realized what types of things happen in the parking lots and turned back around to get her.
I was ready to beat him into the ground when he scurried off. Briefly, I thought about going after him, but these places had cameras, and I didn’t need the drama.
When Livia latched onto me, I felt stunned. She hugged me without fear, or any other emotion, other than thankfulness. The longer she held onto me, the more I could feel the warmth coming off her body, coating mine like a salve. She was considerably smaller than me, but with her pressed against me, I could feel everything. Her soft breasts pressed against my torso, her lips parted against my shirt, with her warm breath teasing my nipple.
It was all I could think about, seeing her pale skin, uncovered, my hands roaming her naked flesh. I’d made it over twenty-four hours without thinking about her in any sexual way, and now that I had, it would fuck with me until she left. But hell if I was going to start any sort of sexual relationship with her, and have to drive with her in the same truck.
It would never work. I was an irritable asshole, and I doubted she would be able to handle a short fling. There was no drama in my life, and I planned to keep it that way. Women were drama. As long as my thoughts of her stayed in my head, we’d be fine.
Only twenty-eight more days. I would survive without getting laid.
The alarm woke me up after only getting around four hours of sleep. Today was going to be a long stretch, from Fort Stockton, Texas, to San Diego. But we had to do it; we’d have a full day off to rest before grabbing more cars in Los Angeles. I rolled out of bed, keeping quiet so Livia could sleep longer. I slipped into my running clothes and hit the pavement. Truckers could hit a slippery slope towards heart disease and other health issues if they didn’t take care of themselves. Maybe one day when I was older, I’d let myself get a trucker belly, but at the age of twenty-eight it was not something I aspired to.
Two-and-a-half miles later, I returned to the truck and woke Livia up.
“Wake up. Let’s go clean up, and hit the road. We’ve got a very long day ahead of us.” Close to fourteen hours of driving. She grumbled but rolled out of bed. Her blonde waves were everywhere, and she had a little black under her eyes from her makeup. Sadly, seeing her like this did nothing to deter my new lust for her. As I turned and jumped out of the rig to give her more space, my thoughts ran through what she would look like post-fuck. Probably something like this morning, but her lips would be more red, and slightly swollen. Her cheeks would have a tinge of pink to them, and those eyes would be glazed over from coming so hard she forgot where she was.
And I was an asshole.
We walked together to the bathrooms, both with a small bag of toiletries and a change of clothes.
Fifteen minutes later, both of us were clean and dressed for the day, and we set off for San Diego quickly.
“We’ll be staying in a house in San Diego tonight. You can do laundry, shower, and whatever else later.” Some of the truck stops had showers. Not the last two we’d been to, but we’d be okay. She wasn’t bitching, so I wasn’t going to worry about it.
“Awesome.” She cradled a small cup of coffee in her hands, trying to warm them up. I kept the rig running throughout the night, so the temperature inside was comfortable, but her hands must still be chilled. We drove without the satellite radio on for two hours, just listening to the sound of the truck on the road. It was a sound that made me feel at home.
“Did I snore last night?” she asked, no hint of embarrassment in her voice. Just curiosity.
“Yep.” She sighed.
“You’re lucky you sleep so deep,” I told her, trying to make her feel not so self-conscious about snoring. I wish I could find a rest so deep that I snored.
“You don’t sleep well? Shit, did I keep you up more?” Concerned for me, again.
“Not because of you. Just don’t sleep much. I’m good to drive, though.” I didn’t want her to freak out about that. I knew some other drivers that weren’t big-time sleepers. As long as we took the required ten hours break time after driving over eleven during the day, we would be okay.
“Oh. That sucks. I can stay up with you, if you want. Watch a movie or something.” Could it be that I had won her loyalty this much, in this short amount of time? Or was she like this with everyone? The answer to those questions was something I wished I knew, but wasn’t sure I wanted to ask. Her stomach started to grumble, so I told her to take the last of the fruit in the fridge for breakfast. We needed to keep on rolling for as long as we could.
After she ate, she went to work on a new sketch for the day.
I turned on some music, and kept on driving.
About an hour later, I was startled by her shrieking. My head whipped around, expecting her to be pointing at a spider or something that chicks screamed like that about, but she was grinning and looking at the radio.
“I love this song. Can I turn it up? Please?” she begged, and I nodded. Her excitement and happiness from a song was entrancing.
She started bouncing around and singing the lyrics to “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey.
“Come on, sing with me, Killian!” She looked at me expectantly. Had she somehow forgotten who she was in the truck with? Singing along to the radio was not something I did.
“Oh, no. That is where I draw the line. I can deal with everything else—the silence, the one-syllable answers, and grumpiness. But not singing along to this song is un-American. I don’t think I can deal with that type of negativity in my life. You must sing with me.” She continued singing, but this time her attention was directed right at me, her hands moving over the strings of her air guitar, singing like she was Steve Perry himself. I couldn’t help but start to mumble the words to the song with her; she had that effect on me. I would probably do about anything I could for this girl, just to see her smile. Her eyes lit up, and she giggled, watching me attempt to join her.
Soon we were both shouting out the words, and for once in a very long time, I let myself enjoy the moment, breaking past my own rain cloud to bask in her sunshine, just for a moment. She smiled, laughed, and gave the song her all. Livia was an incredible woman, and I knew she didn’t understand just how amazing her spirit was, that she could bring a man like me out of the darkness, even for four minutes of a song.
Chapter Eight
Livia
I did the impossible. I got Killian to sing “Don’t Stop Believin’” with me. Do they give out medals for this type of thing? Because I feel like I deserve one. When the song ended, I felt like we had bonded there in our moment of Journey epicness. I didn’t even get a frown when he went back to being quiet after the song. Maybe a little bit of the ice on his heart had melted, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe I should start calling him Grinch? My mind was weighing the pros and cons of calling him that. I settled with a no. We weren’t at that level yet. But maybe after a few more days, and getting him to open up, I could pick a nickname for him. We had been driving for a few hours, and I was beginning to feel the need to pee.
Needing to focus on something else, I went back to drawing, trying to ignore the inevitable.
I made it another hour before I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.
“I have to pee.” He looked at me and then back to the road. Ignoring me.
“Seriously.” My voice whined slightly. Driving the point across.
“We aren’t stopping for a break for another hour. Can you make it?” Another hour? Nope. I’d held it off this long, there was no way.
“No, I’ve already been holding it for the past hour.” He looked at me then huffed, pulling off on the next exit ramp—one that had no signs for anything with a restroom. My guess was I was a
bout to experience my first dirt pee as an adult. I grew up out in the country, and surely I had peed outside when I was little and we went camping. But since then I’d never been too far from a bathroom.
As he pulled the truck to the side of the road, I looked at him like he was crazy. The highway was right behind us! My pale ass would probably be like a beacon to all the cars passing by.
“Go.” He nodded towards the woods. Great. My hands dug in my toiletry bag for the biodegradable wipes I grabbed at the store, and I trudged out into the high grass towards the trees. It was moments like this that I wished I had a penis, so I could just whip it out.
I managed to do my business without falling over or peeing on my yoga pants, which I felt was another great accomplishment on my day. On my way back to the truck, I saw Killian buttoning back his jeans.
“Really? Out in the open like this?” I waved my hands around us.
“Not ashamed of my dick.”
He said dick.
And now I was thinking about his dick.
I walked right past him and climbed into the truck without another word. I had nothing to say that was appropriate. All the thoughts in my head were along the lines of:
Well, let’s see it then.
Prove it.
I’m not ashamed of your dick, either.
See? Not good thoughts at all. For all I knew, he had a tiny curved dick. Doubt it, but that would probably help me sleep better at night, if I knew there was an ugly dick laying on the bunk beneath me. My mind had been going dirty ever since I hugged him last night. Maybe while I was in the shower at this place we were heading, I would take care of myself.
Masturbating was not something new for me, though I’d never done it until I was in a relationship with Lane. Still kicking myself about that.
Lane was all about himself when it came to sex stuff. One time I went down on him with my mouth, he then considered it a garbage bin until hours passed and I brushed my teeth with a Listerine rinse, so I didn’t do it often. He didn’t like going down on me either, because he said it was like having catfish slime on his tongue. After that romantic declaration, I never allowed him down there again. No woman likes hearing her vagina is like catfish slime. So after he took care of himself and fell asleep, I would go into the other room and give myself a happy ending. When I did it, I was coming in just a few short minutes. When he tried, it felt like it took forever. I wish I knew why. But feeling like I cheated on him afterwards made me not do it very often.
I shook my head, trying to dispel the thoughts. Lane and I were over. He screwed that up when he called me a liar. I grabbed the hand sanitizer from my bag and cleaned my hands, then offered some to Killian.
“Sanitize your penis hand?” He looked at me like I was crazy, but took a little drop of it, then rubbed his hands together.
We got back on the road in record time and were cruising. I started drawing again, and before I knew it, two hours had passed. We stopped, stretched together, and ate the last of his chicken wraps. He mumbled something about stopping at the store for more food, once we reached our destination. I was pretty surprised he was so healthy. Besides the Twizzlers and the small biscuit I got him, he seemed to be eating good food. Meanwhile, I had a nice little stash of gummy worms, beef jerky, Air Heads, and one pack of mints. Road trips were supposed to be filled with junk food, cheesy radio selections, and endless fun.
As we started to approach San Diego, I was feeling excited and hyped up. Our first destination!
“So do you know the person we are dropping the cars off with?” I was curious about how this worked.
“Joel. Friend of mine.” Joel. Okay, that was cool. He didn’t go into anymore details about it, so I just bounced in my seat and looked at the scenery around us. California was very beautiful. All the palm trees reminded me of home. Even though it was late, and the sun had set hours ago, I could still feel the awe of where we were.
I looked down at the cars driving next to us. For some reason it hadn’t occurred to me to do this before. One kid caught my gaze and smiled, pumping his arms in the air. He wanted us to honk the horn!
“Honk your horn!” I demanded, looking expectantly at Killian.
“No.” I sighed at his answer, but didn’t let it get me down. I gave the kid a sorry face as they drove past us. When we pulled up to a very fancy looking area, I knew we must be close. Big mansions were lining the shorelines and cliffs.
“Where are we?” I knew we were still in San Diego, but I think it must be a suburb. There was a sign behind us, but I missed it.
“La Jolla.” I liked the way that sounded coming out of his mouth, very seductive-like.
La Jolla was serene. I couldn’t wait to get out and explore. Killian said we would have a short break before picking up the next set of cars and traveling wherever. I was going to take advantage of this time and do something fun.
We pulled up to a very large but not overly done Tuscan-style home. The big gate was open, giving us entry past the big wall surrounding the estate, and Killian had plenty of room to pull his truck in without hitting anything.
I was amazed by the house; it was like art, when you looked closely. Little designs were etched around each window and the door. Someone took a lot of time to turn this house into a subtle masterpiece.
“I’m gonna unload the cars, and then park. You can get out, or stay put,” he said and got out of the truck. I wasn’t staying. I needed to breathe the salty night air coming from the ocean, and feel the breeze on my face.
My boots made a loud thunk as they hit the cobblestone driveway. Someone paid a lot of attention to details with this property. All the trees and plants around us looked natural, not landscaped—as if the house just grew with the flora.
“Hey, you made it!” A man walked out from the front door and strolled down to Killian, not even noticing me. This must be Joel. I walked to the back of the trailer and saw them mid-hug. Killian was bro hugging someone? And he didn’t melt. Interesting.
“Yeah.” Killian pulled back and looked at me, and Joel followed his line of sight.
“Holy Shit!” It just flew right out of my mouth. Joel was not just some guy named Joel. Joel was Joel fucking Kline, the hottest new movie star in Hollywood. He was six foot two, with a muscular build, like Killian. But unlike my blond-headed captain, Joel had black hair with a small mixture of gray in the front of his styled head. Being thirty, he wasn’t old, and the gray spot worked for him. Made him very sexy, actually. Mix that with his striking blue eyes, and he was every woman’s celebrity crush.
And he was looking right at me, his eyes taking in every bit of my body, and I was not impervious to his attention. Did it make me feel the tingles like Killian’s intense stare? No. But it was still nice. He was Joel Kline, for Christ’s sake.
“Who might you be?” His bright white, lady-killer smile appeared. It made me want to giggle like a teenager.
“Livia Jones. I’m tagging along with Killian for the month.” I reached my hand out to shake his. He shook it, but then looked at Killian with eyebrows raised. Yeah, I bet it would be hard to believe if you knew the caveman, that he would willingly agree to do something like this.
Chapter Nine
Killian
Joel had been looking at me curiously ever since Livia told him she was tagging along with me for the month. I started unloading the cars after that to avoid any awkward questions. She was paying me fifteen thousand dollars to do it, end of story. Livia enjoyed looking at the cars, and I saw her eyes widen upon seeing my bike, but she didn’t say anything. Once the cars were in their garage, and Joel was finished greeting us, I stashed my bike in the garage with them, and then parked my truck in the spot made for it, and we went inside, my small bag in my hand and Livia toting hers along.
“Thanks for letting me stay; I know you were just expecting Killian, so it’s nice of you to accept me, too.” She was being her normal, bubbly self, and I could tell Joel was attracted to that. He was staying clo
se to her, and paying lots of attention, listening to what she was saying. I shook my head at him. He was a ladies’ man, through and through. One day a woman was going to tell him no, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
When his hand touched her lower back to lead her toward her bedroom, I felt a little knot form in my stomach. I did not like seeing his hand there. Not one bit. She laughed at his teasing comments about being stuck in a truck with me. And for the first time in a while, I wanted to punch him. Would she tell him no if he tried to make his way into her bed? They were smiling together and talking about his choice of decorations in the house. She didn’t get smiles from me. I bet she wouldn’t turn him down. The thought made me feel angry, so I just sidestepped them and went to the room I always stayed in. I didn’t want to see her interact with someone like him. I wasn’t like him. Even though I had decided I shouldn’t sleep with her, it didn’t mean I wanted to see her agree to sleep with someone else.
I showered and my thoughts inevitably went to Livia. Was she with Joel right now? Had he tried to kiss her? Did she want him?
These feelings weren’t something I was used to, and I didn’t like them one bit. Once I dried off and dressed in sweats and a shirt, I went in search of the two, to ease my mind.
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