Page 43 of Everything We Found

Thomas glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, okay.” He packed up his books and looked at her. “Do you mind?”

She wished he wouldn’t leave her, but she’d never admit she was lonely for his company.

“No, it’s cool.”

“You’ll be okay sitting here by yourself?” He flashed a teasing smile.

“Duh.” She waved him off.

He leaned in by her ear when he walked past her. “Good to see you, Nada.” He gently brushed her shoulder.

Nadia sharply inhaled, butterflies circling inside her, and watched him join his friends, her fingers lingering over the warm spot where he’d touched her. Only later that night as she replayed their conversation did she wonder about the doubt she’d glimpsed on his face.

Nadia blinked her eyes open and looked around, feeling weary and out of sorts. The sky was pink, sunlight winking above the Sierra Nevada ridge line. Farmland sprawled out from the highway on both sides of the road. They were heading east now.

She yawned, pushing up in her seat, realizing she must have dozed off for an hour. Thomas stared ahead, his elbow on the door, his hand holding up his head. Purple semi-circles propped his eyes, and dark stubble dotted with gray covered his jaw. It was dense, almost a short beard after only a couple of days without shaving. His eyes blinked rapidly and he pinched the corners with his thumb and forefinger as if he was trying to keep himself awake.

“Do you want me to drive?” she offered. God knew where he’d have her take them, as long as one of them stayed awake at the wheel.

He glanced at her, his eyes momentarily widening, showing his surprise that she’d offered or that she was actually talking to him. She couldn’t tell which. Maybe he’d forgotten she was there, she thought with a silent laugh.

His brows pulled in. “What?”

“Nothing. You doing okay?”

He shot her a look. No, he wasn’t okay. But neither was she.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Tired, scared. Queasy.” She hugged her middle.

His frown deepened, turning his exhaustion to concern.

“Do you need me to pull over?”

Yes, so she could stretch her legs and catch her breath and scream her frustration. Cry out her fear. But she didn’t need to use the bathroom, if that was what he’d asked for. Not yet anyways.

“I think I’m just hungry, and… god.” She leaned forward, clutching her stomach. “I hate this is happening.”

Thomas’s shoulders bowed. “I know. And you hate me too.” She’d told him more than once since they’d barely escaped his house with their lives. Had that really been two days ago? It seemed like weeks, months even since a bullet had grazed her face. Since Thomas had saved her life.

“I’ve never hated you, Tom,” she quietly admitted.

Beats of silence followed as if the car was holding its breath. The wheels ate up the pavement underneath them with a steady drone.

“I’m scared too.”

Nadia wasn’t sure she’d heard the admission correctly until Thomas reached over to pat her leg. He was always the one reassuring her. Rarely was it the other way around. Had it ever been?

On reflex, she covered his hand with hers and their fingers interlocked. His thumb traced an arc across her knuckles, and her breath hitched at the slow and deliberate intimacy of it. She should let go. They both should. But he didn’t, so she didn’t either. And for a moment, she let herself have it, this closeness. His reassurance.

When they reached Bakersfield, Thomas stopped for gas. Nadia climbed out to stretch her legs while he pumped fuel. She walked around the car a couple of times then leaned againstthe trunk. Arms folded, she watched the cars on the highway, not really seeing them. Not really thinking about anything either other than being very aware of Thomas’s proximity. Behind her, she heard the splash of water and squeak of a squeegee on glass as he cleaned the windshield. Then the pump clicked off and the water splashed as the squeegee landed back in the bucket. It was time to get back on the road.

She straightened to return to her seat the same time Thomas rounded the car for his seat. He stopped in front of her, looking like he wanted to say something. Instead, he pulled her into him.

Nadia stiffened on a startled intake of breath, but not because she didn’t want him to touch her. She wanted it too much. Her arms came up around his waist and she rested her forehead on his chest, much like she had during her panic attack. Only this time, it wasn’t fear coaxing her to stay in his embrace.

His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers threading into her hair, massaging her scalp. “I want to tell you we’re going to be okay?—”