“Okay,” I said quietly. “What do we do from here? Where do we go?”

   He laughed. “Chloe, this is your journey. I’m just here for the ride. We do whatever you want.”

   “I didn’t really have a plan,” I told him. “I was just gonna drive.”

   He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck. “That sounds like an amazing plan to me.”

   And it was.

   Until about two hours into the drive on the highway when he’d started to fidget in his seat. He’d changed the station on the radio numerous times, searched on his phone about hardwiring his iPod into said stereo, quizzed me about my lack of sports knowledge, and tried to fix the been-broken-forever console with a stick and a piece of gum.

   Then he was bouncing in his seat, chewing his nails. He barely ever chewed his nails. “Did you know that the human head weighs eight pounds?”

   I glanced at him quickly. “I did actually. The kid from Jerry Maguire taught me that.”

   “I love that kid!”

   “Me too!”

   “I wanted to be a sports agent because of that film. You know, if basketball didn’t work out.”

   “Oh yeah?”

   He nodded enthusiastically. “Yup! Before that I wanted to be a fireman. And a racecar driver. Oh! And lion tamer. How good would that be? A lion tamer. I’d call my lion LeBron, and we’d go everywhere together. He would be my best friend and we’d go to the park and laugh at all the people with their petty dogs and I’d have a kick-ass lion. I’m going to do it. Do you think there are laws? Or an adoption program? All lions need love too. Maybe I can find a blind lion. It would be harder to train but it would be worth it because—”

   “Oh my God,” I laughed and placed my hand firmly on his knee to stop the bouncing. “What is with you?”

   He froze but eyed me sideways. Then he sucked in a huge breath. “Chloe, I’m fucking bored.”

   I looked at the clock on the dashboard. “We’ve only been driving a couple hours.”

   “I know, but I’m not used to just sitting around. I’m always doing stuff.”

   “Okay.” I tried to settle him. “What do you normally do? What can we do to stop this boredom?”

   He rolled his eyes. “Quit talking to me like I’m a kid, for one.”

   I giggled. “Well, tell me what you normally do.”

   He shrugged. “I don’t know. Shoot hoops, skate, run, fuck.”

   I choked on air.

   His eyes shut tight. “Ignore that last one.”

   I did. “Pass me my bag?”

   He reached into the backseat and then handed me my bag. I pulled out a lollipop, ripped the wrapper off with my teeth, and held it in front of his mouth.

   “A lollipop?” he groaned. “Really?”

   “It’s to shut you up.”

   “I’m not Sammy!” But he opened his mouth and took it anyway.

   Two seconds later, he waved the stick in my face, sans lolly. “That didn’t last long. What else you got?”

   “It’s a lollipop. You’re supposed to suck it, not bite it.”

   “That’s what he said.”

   “Pig.” I reached into the bag and pulled out another one. “Suck it this time. Make it last.”

   He took the lollipop from my hand. “That’s what he—”

   “Shut it.”

   He laughed but put the lollipop in his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest. Even when he acted like a kid, he was still stupidly hot.

   Blake

   We found a hotel to stay at in Myrtle Beach. Even though it was only an hour-and-a-half drive from home, it took us four hours to get there. Most likely because she didn’t believe in maps.

   “Did you want to just stay the one night, Blake?”

   I shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

   “Can we book for two and then go from there?”

   The lady behind the desk nodded and took Chloe’s card. I offered to pay. She wouldn’t let me. But something was off, the lady kept eyeing me weird, and I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from asking her what the hell her problem was.

   Okay, I was on edge.

   I’d been in a car for four hours, and my mind was starting to run a little wild. I was happy I was with Chloe—don’t get me wrong. But I had left a lot of things unfinished at home. And I had left a lot of things at home. Like clothes. Running shoes. Josh. Tommy. Mom.

   “I mean no disrespect, but are y’all runaways?” the lady asked.

   Chloe laughed. “No, ma’am. We’re actually here on our honeymoon.”

   My eyes widened, but I tried to hide it when the lady smiled at us, and Chloe wrapped her arms around me. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” the lady asked. Myrtle, her name was. No shit. “I’ll upgrade you. No charge.” She held her hand to her heart. “Young love,” she sang. “Bless your hearts.”

   I dropped Chloe’s bag in the middle of the room.

   She sat on the edge of the bed and kicked her legs out in front of her. “What’s bugging you?”

   “Nothing,” I lied.

   “I can get another room,” she said quietly. “And I’ll take you home in the morning.”

   “What?” My head whipped to hers, but her face was down, watching her feet moving back and forth. “Why would you say that?”

   “I don’t know. You just seem like you regret being here.”

   My eyes drifted shut, and my shoulders sagged. I felt like an asshole. “I don’t regret it, Chloe. Not for a second.” I pulled the sheets down on one side of the bed and stripped to my boxers. After climbing in, I waited for her to do the same, but she didn’t. She just sat there, frozen. “Chloe?”

   She turned to me now, her mouth pulled down into a frown. My insides twisted, and I hated myself, because I knew I was the reason she looked like that. I sat up on my knees and lifted her off the bed, placing her under the covers and into my arms. “I’m an asshole.”

   “A little.” She turned so we were face-to-face. “Talk to me.”

   “I don’t regret being here with you. Not at all. There’s absolutely nowhere else I’d rather be right now. Believe me. I just didn’t think things through, I guess.”

   “Like what?”