Page 29 of Shut Up and Drive

“Love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Both are felt passionately, both motivate you to do crazy things, and both will drive you mad if you let them. It’s easier than you think to go from love to hate, and back again. It’sindifferenceyou’ve got to be worried about. If she feels nothing for you, that’s when you know you’ve lost her. But you’re wasting daylight. Don’t let that one get away, or you’ll regret it forever.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It never is, baby. It never is. But if she’s worth it, you’ll find the courage to take the leap. Now, what can I get for you two to eat?”

Pearl takes my order, then disappears into the kitchen—leaving me alone with the thought that she so haphazardly planted in my mind. Sera and I are complicated. I look at the mess between us and feel overwhelmed at the idea of trying to fix it. Some things just can’t be repaired, no matter how much effort is put into it. After the way she reacted to seeing me the other day at her parents’ house, I worry that we’ve been sorted into the irreparable category. Not that I expected her to run at me in slow motion and jump into my arms, but her instant distrust of me is concerning.

I deserved every ounce of it, though.

But underneath all the insecurities I mask with a cocky smile and too much teasing, a seedling of desire to try grows. Seraisworth the effort. But will she ever feel the same way about me again?

Pearl plunks a tray of biscuits and gravy in front of me and smiles.

“My work here is done. Now go get her, boy,” she says with a grin and pats my shoulder.

I walk up the staircase with a tray full of food in my hands and Pearl’s comments swimming around my head. I reach our room and knock softly. When Sera doesn’t answer, I figure she’s still asleep and open the door.

She’s sitting with her back to me, facing the window. The morning sunlight filters in, resting on her shiny dark hair and soft shoulders. I expect her to turn when I come in, but quickly realize she’s got headphones in. She singsquietly to herself as she folds her clothes and repacks her suitcase, and I stand in the doorway in awe. The more time I spend with her, the more she pulls me in. But I can’t risk her seeing me watching her with heart-eyes pulsing, so I open and shut the door harder to give her the impression that I’ve just come in. She startles and removes her headphone with a yawn.

“Hey. I grabbed us some breakfast while you were sleeping,” I say, setting the food onto the nightstand. I pull out a bed tray for each of us and place hers on the bed we slept in.

“Please tell me that’s biscuits and gravy,” she says, lowering onto the bed across from me.

“It sure is. And cheesy grits too.” I sit down on the broken bed facing her and pull my tray over my lap.

“Oh man, you sure know how to please a girl,” she says. The realization of the double entendre hits her square in the brain, and she backpedals profusely. “I mean, um, you knew exactly what I wanted…” She clears her throat and fidgets with her napkin and silverware before muttering, “Thank you.” A blush washes over her naked face, and I hold back a grin that nearly kills me. I tease her to turn the steam valve inside me a little bit.

“So, I was right to ask Pearl for the chastity blanket, huh?”

“Oh, you definitely needed to be protected from me, all right, but not because I can’t resist you. It’s because I had to fight the urge all night long to put your pillow over your face.”

Pearl’s words float back through my mind:Love and hate are two sides of the same coin.

At least she’s not indifferent,I tell myself.

“Riiiight,” I say slowly, recalling her arms draped over me, “you can believe that if you want to, Handsy.”

She gives me a death glare and grits her teeth around her comeback. “I’d murder you right here if you hadn’t brought me a homemade breakfast that smells like it was made by the angels in heaven.” She sits cross-legged on the bed and situates herself excitedly.

“Those terms are acceptable,” I say.

After her first bite, subsequent eye roll, and tiny little chipmunk sounds, her hanger turns happy. She swallows and reveals what I already read online while waiting for our breakfast. “The roads are going to have debris and some flooding from the storm last night, so we should get an early start.”

I nod slowly, trying to take in the idea of the trip ahead of us. I only have a few hours of uninterrupted time left with her before we’re bombarded with events and people. The idea that I wasted the opportunity yesterday to set things right with her makes me hate myself. It was the chance I’d been waiting for since the night I left, and now that I finally have it, I’m blowing it. I had hoped that after all these years I’d learn to speak up for myself and say how I really feel. But so far, I’m just the same old people-pleaser who puts everyone else’s comfort first. Even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when it ruins everything. I set down my fork and push away my plate.

“Thane, what’s wrong?”

Her deep brown eyes burrow into mine, and I’m reminded that even though we’ve spent years apart, she can still read me like a book. It disarms me when she looks at melike that, and I love that she has that power still—and it also sucks.

I sigh, buying myself a few seconds of time to compose my face and concoct a story, because now doesn’t feel like a good time to emotionally vomit all over her.

“Well, I didn’t sleep very well. I’m just tired.”

“I’m sorry. Did I hog the blankets?”

No, Fina. The mere presence of you inches from my fingertips all night and not being able to touch you threw off my whole circadian rhythm. So instead I settled for listening to you breathe softly in my ear.

“No. But you snore like a lumberjack,” I say, flashing a grin, shoving the pining I feel every time I look at her right back where it belongs.