Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 30148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
I’d keep the rooms empty.
I’d keep the lights on somehow.
And I’d remember.
It was the best I could do.
Chapter Eight
“No human has any business looking cute while they sleep. It just goes against the laws of nature.”—August Wellington
Hazel
I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep until I woke up with a sore neck, a weird-looking red plaid blanket across my lap, and a Jeep still running but missing its driver.
I rubbed my eyes and looked over at the empty black leather seat August had been sitting in before personal abandonment. August was missing. I hadn’t even heard him leave the car let alone shut the door.
The keys were still in the ignition, and we were in front of an Albertsons grocery store in the mountains.
It was pretty. I mean, Portland was already technically in a mountainous area, but this place was closer to Seaside and Tillamook. Nestled right on the Oregon coast, it had rocky cliffs that dropped directly into tumultuous waters. On top of that, it had this beautiful fog that made you think you were in a fairy tale, being both on the beach and in the trees.
I shivered and turned on the heat. How was it so much colder two hours away from the city?
I didn’t have to wait long. In his tight, white long-sleeve shirt and jeans, August was already rushing toward the Jeep with two bags in his hands. Please, let those be snacks. I was starving.
He opened the back and shoved the bags in, then returned to the front and opened his door, looking at me. “Good nap?”
My eyes narrowed. “Your smile feels judgmental.”
“That’s because it is. Oh, and you had some drool earlier, so I just ended up grabbing an empty coffee cup and holding it under your jaw with one hand. Too bad you can’t recycle spit. You’d have a good thing going.”
I yawned. “Not even your sarcasm or insults can ruin my good mood right now.” I stretched my arms over my head. “That was probably the best nap I’ve had in years.”
“Naps. I wonder what that’s actually like. You know, resting one’s eyes, not waking up with severe panic attacks and anxiety over everything you have to do that day or what might come tomorrow and—“ He stopped talking. “Sorry, when I’m tired, my censor just dies a slow death in my mouth, and all the words come out.”
I was a bit stunned he’d said all of that, so I just shrugged. “It happens to the best of us. What did you get?”
Good, solid subject change.
“Beans. I figure if I eat enough, I can drive you out of your tent as prey for the wild animals.”
“I think your scent would be enough to keep them far, far away from our campsite. And you know you shouldn’t talk about farting if you want to look marginally attractive to any sex.”
He put the SUV into drive. “Oh, don’t worry. The idea is to repel, not attract.”
“Animals?”
“You.” He grinned. “Now, let’s go set up. I have a spot right near Canon Beach that lets you have tents on the outskirts near the woods. It’s nice, and bonus, I’ve never been mauled by any wild creatures.”
“Yay.” I did a sad fist pump in the air. “Let’s just get this over with, bury the hatchet, give the parents some alone time, and then go back home. How long are we camping again?”
“Dad said three days.” August’s voice cracked, and then he cleared his throat and went extremely silent—the tense sort of silence you knew was necessary without even knowing the reasons why.
I didn’t say anything for the next twenty minutes. The view was pretty enough, and I was still groggy from my nearly two-hour nap. It was already starting to get dark by the time we made it to the campsite, or at least what I assumed was the campsite. There were two RVs, a tent, and a fire going, but that was basically it. I could hear the waves crashing before we got out of the Jeep. August remained silent as he killed the engine and slammed his door. There were no bathrooms that I could see, which meant I had a date with nature and a very embarrassing talk with August about where to go to the bathroom to look forward to. Fingers crossed there’d be no curious bears.
I left my purse and phone in the Jeep so I could help, then pulled my black hoodie over my head and shivered. I was glad I’d packed more than one sweatshirt and a big jacket just in case it rained.
August was pulling stuff out of the back of the SUV: two blue folding chairs, some dry firewood that he moved to the side, some food, and finally, the tent. He left the blankets inside just in case. Wait, why was there only one tent?