SOPHIA
The ticking sound of Jameson’s blinker and the lack of movement stirred me back to reality. I glanced over at him through squinting, blurry eyes and smiled. I was relieved. That was a strange feeling to me.
“Hi,” I whispered.
His response was his right hand wrapping around my left knee as he accelerated from the stoplight.
“Where are we?”
“North of Tallahassee.” His voice cracked from not speaking for hours. Hours!
I sat up, rigid like a statue and overcome with guilt. He had driven for hours while I slept, when I knew he was just as tired as me.
“Why didn’t we stop? Why did you keep going?”
“We needed to get out of Florida, Soph.” He looked at me, the glow of hazel softened to brown. “I’m pulling off in an hour. We’re almost to Georgia. I just want to get beyond the border.”
I looked at dashboard clock. “It’s almost one in the morning, Jameson.”
“Don’t worry, Soph.” He squeezed my knee. “I’m fine. I have to pee like crazy, but that’s kept me awake.”
“That’s terrible for your health, Jameson.”
“I told you not to worry.” He smiled at me, the same genuine smile as from the cove. The same smile that combusted my heart and made my soul temporarily forget anything but the happiness with which he filled me.
I looked out the window, seeing nothing but black. We were companions of the soft, blue glow of dashboard lights and silencing darkness outside. He was driving so quickly, just asking to be pulled over.
“How far is the border now?” I questioned, unfamiliar with the area.
I was only familiar with the distance between Port Orford and Portland or San Francisco.
“Fifteen miles.”
“Fifteen miles. That’s going to be two minutes at your speed. Are you trying to kill us?”
“No.” He grinned at me, eyes still focused on the road.
I wiggled my knees up to my chest, regretful that his hand pulled away and returned to the steering wheel, and stared out the window. I lost myself in thoughts of the last day alone—Olivia, the Ritz, Jules, and Jameson. I had given up everything in the life forced upon me in a heartbeat. I needed to accept it. Jameson maneuvered through the pockets of traffic and exited the freeway.
“Is this it?”
“Almost.” He laughed. “I can’t hold it anymore, Soph. I’m sorry.” He pulled into the parking lot of a rest stop.
“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your bladder and kidneys.”
“Will do.” He pulled his keys from the ignition and turned to me. “Come inside with me and stretch your legs for a minute. I won’t be long.”
Nodding, I stepped out from the car and opened the back door for his school bag. There was too much money, and his photographs were too precious, for that to be left unattended. I followed Jameson into the building and paced the tiled lobby while I waited for him. Large maps of Florida and Georgia were on display on a corkboard, surrounded by travel brochures for sightseers. Not this trip.
“Let me carry that,” Jameson said as he stepped from the restroom and reached for the strap of his bag. “It looks like it weighs a ton.” I let him peel it from my body and carry it in his hands.
“Ready?”
“Yes. Careful,” I warned him.
He nodded at me and lifted it over his shoulder, quickly glancing at me before walking toward the car. One look. He passed one brief look toward me and it was his quest for reassurance. Was this what I wanted to do? Did I need to do this? Yes. I followed him into his SUV, snuggling into the warm leather that enveloped my body. I heard the back door close before Jameson came to my side.
“Hey,” he said as he swiftly pecked my forehead, his lips spreading into the flirtatious grin with which I was sure he lured people to their demise.
“Hi,” I replied, my voice somewhat shaky.
He pulled the seatbelt around my waist, clicking it in, and studying me. I could have done that myself. Well, no; my hands wouldn’t stop shaking in my lap and he noticed. I had a moment to review those maps. We were minutes from escaping Florida.
“You’re sure?” His hand squeezed my knee once I was securely pressed into the passenger seat. I nodded. Jameson closed my door and glided to his, opening it and sliding into his seat. The engine purred as it revved into life and Jameson pulled away from the state I had just begun calling home.
“I’ve probably got another hour in me. I think that will get us to Alabama. We can stop there for the night…Soph? You’ll wake up and it’ll be like To Kill A Mockingbird.”
“What?” I laughed at him; of all the things he could compare any part of this frightening experience to, I hadn’t expected it to be one of my favorite books.
“I…” his throat cleared, “I saw the book in your bedroom.”
“Oh.” Florida. We had just cleared the border and I promised myself not to think about it.
“I just meant Alabama is where that story took place…”
“I know, Jameson. I got it.” I grabbed his hand while it curled around the gear shift. “Have you read that story?”
“Gabe did.” He laughed, an embarrassed chuckle. “Jameson did not. Jameson was too busy in art class.”
“I didn’t know that.” I was embarrassed. “That explains why your clothes were soiled half the time.”
“I didn’t know you paid attention to those details.” He leaned over, grinning at me and forcing a blush across my cheeks. “But yes, I painted. What else did you notice about me at school?”
“What?” I took my hand from his and crossed my arms defensively, feeling the giddy burn within my heart.
“Well…” He smiled, staring at the road. “I first noticed your hair. Then I saw you smile. You smelled really pretty too, like flowers. But what called me to you was how introverted you are. You were so quiet and reserved. It was actually refreshing.”
“You were refreshed that people depleted my batteries?” I chuckled, my heart warming with our casual banter. It felt like we were an old couple on their first date; like there was history, but it was all new and undiscovered.
“Well…” His eyes quickly flashed to mine, renewed with a golden glow. “I was attracted to you immediately, if that makes you feel better. Let’s cut to the chase, right?”
“Right,” I mumbled, lifting my knees beneath my chin, glowing a deep burgundy in response to his soft, rumbling laughter.
“Soph…” He continued to laugh. “Relax. I’m having a really great time getting to know you right now. We have pieces of each other that are still a mystery. We still have stories yet to be told.”
“Oh?” My head rolled to face him, observing how tired his face was.
“Yes.”
Smiling, I continued, “What’s your story, Jameson Burke?”
“My story?” Jameson’s left fingers rubbed along his jaw, his mind deep in thought.
“It starts and ends with you, Sophia Reid,” he continued. “You know how to drive, right?”
To begin, my heart had stopped. I think I died…or I was in the process of dying. His sweetness made my teeth hurt in the most beautiful, desirable way. That was the love I didn’t know. That was the foreign, terrifying, and absolutely consuming, hopeless love that I also felt. I did. Secondly, of course I knew how to drive. Effectively communicating my feelings, no. Driving, yes.
“Of course I do. I stole Jules’s car.” I laughed. “Why?”
“I’m falling asleep.”
“Let me drive.”
“No.” He shook his head, pulling off the freeway. “We’ll stay at a hotel. I don’t want you to drive alone at night. There’s too much for you to worry about to focus on that. Besides, I’m not much of a protector if I’m asleep.”
There was no use in arguing with Jameson on the issue so I watched submissively as he pulled into the parking lot of a small hotel. It looked clean enough on the outside, but I sort of resisted leaving the car. As Jameson killed the ignition, I grabbed his arm and looked at the amused smile spreading on his lips.
“It’s fine,” he assured me. “Nothing is going to happen to you while I’m holding you in bed. I promise.”
“If you say so. I’m still putting a chair at the door.”
“What are you talking about?” His laugh echoed outside of the car as he climbed out and opened the back door for my bag. I closed the door behind me and followed Jameson to the front of the car, grabbing his arm while we walked.
“My mom told me once about this girl she knew who stayed at a hotel that was right out of a horror movie.”
“Just stop, Soph.” He laughed at me as he held open the front door of the hotel.
“No. Listen. She was afraid of sleeping in there, even with her husband, and she put a chair beneath the doorknob so nobody could get in, but she woke up in the middle of the night and some nut-job psycho was sitting in the chair.”
“Was he smiling at her?”
“Yes! How did you know?”
“Because I saw that in a movie once. You’re so gullible. It’s adorable.” Jameson bent to kiss my forehead, sighing once his laughter had subsided.
I waited at his side while he checked in with the front desk. I was floating between my own strange state of heightened, gullible alertness and desperation for sleep. I stood in a daze at his side and only returned to speaking once his left arm spun me around and held me at his side.
“It wasn’t a movie. It really happened,” I urged.
“Okay.” Jameson guided me toward the hallway. “We’re room twenty-five.”
“What are you going to do if someone breaks into our room in the middle of the night, Jameson? You’re driving a BMW, for heaven’s sake.”
“I don’t know, Soph.” His hands pulled against his face and the small laughter returned to his throat. “I guess I’ll ask how they’re doing. Maybe they have some tourist tips for us.” I smacked his chest, earning his laughter and pathetic, overly dramatic act of injury.
“How can I hold you if you break my arm?”
“You’ll find a way.” I smiled up at him.
Jameson nodded, his eyes full of exhaustion but smiling widely at me. He placed the key into the door, opening it to reveal the musty hotel room. I was hesitant to step in first.
“Look.” He nodded into the room. “There are two chairs, Soph. We’re definitely safe here.”
“Ha,” I mocked, following him in.
He placed his school bag on the laminate dresser, next to the outdated television. My gaze fell upon his reflection in the mirror above the dresser, watching as Jameson pulled off his shirt and scratched his head. His face turned, catching my stare in the mirror, and I knew my cheeks turned pink.
“This bed was probably used in a porno.” He laughed, breaking the silence and reaching for his shirt. “Are there towels in any of those drawers?”
“For what?” Oh, my god, put your shirt on. Please.
“Um…” He laughed, approaching my frozen figure. “A shower? I haven’t taken one in days…”
“I’m too tired.” I yawned, finally pulling my sheepish eyes from the mirror and turning toward the bed. “I’ll take one in the morning.”
One bed. This again. Jameson followed my gaze, returning his eyes to the mattress. His hand squeezed my shoulder while his lips gently met my hair.
“Get in,” he whispered. “I can’t protect you from the scary movie guy if I’m asleep on the floor with the cockroaches.”
Those thoughts were enough to send me into panic, but his crackled whisper against my ear melted me into a pile of compliance. Still fully dressed, I lifted the sheet and climbed in. My eyes quickly shut, despite the flat pillow and uncomfortably hard mattress, craving sleep. I was on my left side when the mattress shifted and Jameson’s lips were against my forehead. Please don’t let me die in this hotel room tonight.
“Tell me why you left before,” he whispered, my mind just above sleep. “Please, Soph?”
“I run.”
“No. Beyond that. I’d run if I were you too. Heck, I am running with you. But before, at the Ritz, in the hall…you pushed me away. Why did you leave?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jameson. I want to sleep. I want to forget it.”
“I can’t, though.”
My eyes flew open, startled by the proximity of his body against mine. Exhausted pools of hazel pleaded with me for answers. I responded with a heavy sigh, my mind threatening panic at reflection of the day.
“When my mom was killed,” I waited, willing my mind not to shut down, “…I couldn’t stay in Oregon, obviously…”
“Did you have friends there?”
“I had one or two. I don’t require people to function. I think you know that by now.” I smiled up at him, warmed by the tender expression on his face.
“Did you get to say goodbye?”
“Where are you going with this? And would you let me finish?”
Jameson kissed my forehead, softening my tone, and whispered, “I was just thinking how you started all over here and I…all of this…caused you pain.”
“It does.” My eyes closed in reflection. “But it won’t for always. I had to start over with you three times in a month, Jameson. That is what was the most difficult for me. Hearing Thomas tell you to leave me again…I couldn’t handle it.”
“I wouldn’t have listened to his order again, Soph. Please believe that. The first time I did…I messed up. I thought I was doing what was best for you.”
“Listen to me, Jameson. I don’t do people. I don’t do scary things. I don’t socialize; I don’t talk to people with whom I am uncomfortable…and I had to do all of that, over and over, to be with you. It was incredibly overwhelming. I just…”
“You needed space.”
“I needed space.”
“Do you…do you still feel that way?” His brows met in concern while his left hand lifted to my face, gently stroking my cheek. It tickled when Jameson placed some hair behind my right ear. I let out a sigh of comfort, closing my eyes. What a day.