Back to Me (Book Three ✓)

thirty-eight

BEAU

"Why don't we just take one car?" Zoey's brows knit together, her head tilting to the side as she watches me crouch into my drivers seat.

I already have a fucking headache and can't deal with her chatter, that's why.

We were supposed to take a quick rest before heading out to follow through with her crazy plan. But the people in the motel room next to me had other ideas.

By the sounds of it, her orgasm was fake and he didn't even notice.

So they wasted my nap for mediocre sex. Rude.

Pressing my fingers into my eyes, I let out a deep sigh. "Why do you have to question everything?"

"I don't. But we would save on gas..."

Again with the money.

My eyes snap open. "If gas money is such an issue for you Zoey, then why'd you drag us all the way out here for this shit?"

Her face falls. For a second I feel almost bad.

Then it pinches in that unflattering way she has, the one that makes her look like her mother, and rolls her eyes.

Now I don't feel bad, just annoyed.

"Well if that's how you feel, that I dragged you here, then why bother coming at all?" She puts a bag into her passenger seat, slamming the door closed. "I'll just go by myself."

I lean against the top of my car, squinting at her, taking in her appearance. Disheveled blonde hair sticks in every direction around her face, pulled into a knot on top of her head. The bags under her eyes rival mine after a nasty hangover, her forehead creased with ever more present stress lines.

Her clothes aren't stained today, although they are ill-fitting.

No, there's absolutely no way I'm letting her go alone.

Something about all of this still feels... off. And by the way she looks, people are more apt to notice her hanging outside a playground. Especially if I'm not there to curb her more enthusiastic ideas.

"Get in." I snap, not waiting for an argument before I get into my car.

Strangely, there isn't one, and before I know it, she's reading me directions off her phone as I drive through the small, coastal town.

Besides her instructions, a "Turn here" or "Stay to the right" every few moments, the ride is quiet.

Zoey latches on to the opportunity, speaking whatever comes to her brain, probably.

"Are you excited to see Max?" I feel her eyes on me.

Not glancing away from the road, my voice is monotone. "Ecstatic."

"Why are you so grumpy?" She pops her gum like a high school teenager. "I would've thought you'd be more excited to meet your son."

"We're not meeting him." I turn from the road to make sure she sees how serious my face is. "We're seeing him in passing."

"I know." She slumps in her chair a little. "You keep reminding me."

"So cut the shit." I growl. "Stop making this out to be more than it is. We're checking in. We're leaving. And then you drop this whole thing, you stop calling me." I eye her down. "You let me get on with my life."

She turns to look out the window, her voice small. "It's like you don't even care."

"Honestly Zoey?" I groan, leaning my head back against the leather headrest. "I only care to know the kid's okay. After that, I've done what I've had to do. I want to focus on my girlfriend, my family-"