He slowly put his feet up, one at a time, on the empty seat between us, then laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back, getting good and comfortable.
I wanted to punch him. “Rusty, come on.”
“Tell me somethin’, H,” he said with a smile. “Did you want to kiss me last night?”
I didn’t answer. This was fun for him, making me wonder. He was enjoying this whole thing.
“It’s okay, you know, if you did,” he continued. “You definitely wouldn’t be the first girl to lose control of herself over me.” He paused and looked right at me. “But then again . . . would you really want me to tell you if you did? ’Cuz you don’t seem too happy about that prospect, either.” He smirked. “Which probably would be a first.”
“Rusty—” How did I ever find him remotely attractive?
“You seen my keys?” Celia asked as she walked in. She did a quick scan of the kitchen counter. Rusty motioned at the key rack near the door, which held a set that had to be hers. I poked my fork at the egg on my plate, trying to look like we weren’t just having the discussion we’d been having. “Aw thanks, honey. I shoulda known. Bru always hangs them up for me.” She gave me a once-over. “You sure you’re okay, Honor?”
“Just fine, thank you,” I muttered.
“We’re good,” Rusty said, smiling at me. “Just talkin’ about how it’s not proper to kiss and tell.” He reached across the table and grabbed a piece of my bacon, crunching it as he stood. “You weren’t gonna eat that, were you?”
I wondered what would happen if I threw my breakfast at him right then. That probably wouldn’t be very proper either. “No,” I said, pushing my plate away. “Lost my appetite.”
Rusty snorted and snapped up my other piece of bacon before he stacked our plates and took them to the sink. “I’m gonna go get that hose changed out, then give the dirty porn-star car a little tune-up before we get back on the road.” He glanced over at me for a reaction, and I almost smiled at the flash of that conversation. Almost. Rusty leaned back against the counter. “You wanna give me a hand? So you know how to take care of your own car?”
“No. I don’t.” I turned to Celia. “You still have that stack of gossip magazines? I want to see if I can find out anything else about Kyra Kelley before we go.” It was a hollow excuse, especially considering I had no illusions now that I would actually get to meet her. I had no idea where I could have left the phone number Ashley had given me. The best I could hope for at this point was that we’d make it to the show. I still had the tickets, at least, and now there was no way I could let Finn’s gift be wasted. Not after what it must’ve taken him to get them.
Celia looped her jangly purse over her shoulder. “Sure thing, honey. They’re all there in the living room. And I’ll see if there’s any new ones out when I’m in town, okay? I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Thank you,” I said, as sweet as I could. It wasn’t her I was mad at.
Celia stepped out the door, leaving me in the kitchen with a splitting headache, a turning stomach, and the near certainty I’d lost all sense the night before and gone and kissed her son, who was now leaning against the counter looking amused as heck by the whole thing.
“Anything else you’ll be needin’, princess?” he asked.
“Yeah, actually, there is.”
Rusty cocked his head. “And what’s that?”
“I need for you to not talk to me right now.” I slid my chair back from the table and stood to go. “This is starting to feel pointless, I feel like I got run over by a truck, and I don’t want any crap from you about it, okay?”
His face fell just a little, but he was quick to recover. “Fine with me,” he said. “I’ll be outside. Fixing your car. For your trip.” He ducked out the door, then shut it with a force that hammered at my temples.
My trip. That’s what Finn had meant it to be when he sent me that letter. But when I got in the Impala and pointed it at California, I’d wanted it to be our trip. Mine and Finn’s. I’d wanted to take his car and his letter and that pinch of dust and give him something impossible in return. A send-off he’d be proud of, no matter how crazy it sounded.
All I’d done, though, was go off course—miles and miles from where I should have been, and I didn’t know where to begin to find my way back now.
26
“I don’t have a map,” Celia said, “but this should get you there.” She handed me a MapQuest printout. “It says it should take around seven hours, so you’ll make it there by this evening.” She squeezed my arm. “I’m so happy for you, honey. Your brother would be proud of you doing this for him.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t argue, just set the papers down on the passenger seat and squinted at her in the bright sunlight that made my head ache even worse.
“You’re welcome, but it’s me who should be thanking you.” She hugged me to her tiny frame, and I tried not to stiffen.
“Why?” I asked, pulling away as gently as I could.
She glanced toward the garage, where Rusty was talking with Bru, then motioned for me to lean in. “Just that you . . . and this trip . . . it’s good for Rusty. He took the news about Finn so hard I thought it might break him in two, I really did. Lord knows he’s got his daddy’s tendencies to deal with things with a bottle. Which is just what he started to do. His energy was so dark for a while there . . .” She glanced at him with eyes that were tender and wet with emotion. “But once he worked things out about you, and about that promise he made to Finn, it gave him something important to focus on, something that mattered, you know?”