Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“Sunscreen,” he said, lifting his eyebrows at me as he handed me the bottle. “Put it on. Never forget it. And we’re leaving soon.”
I took the bottle from him, trying to keep my smile to myself. “Thank you, Sam.”
We’d only been on the highway for an hour when I saw Dad and Cathy’s RV pulling off at a small rest stop on the side of the road. I followed, navigating the King Aire smoothly onto the pulloff. I never would have thought I’d like driving a giant hunk of metal, but shockingly, it gave me a sense of calm I couldn’t seem to find anywhere else in life lately.
As I came to a stop, I saw the passenger side door of Dad’s RV swing open and Sam hopped out, slamming the door behind him. I realized with surprise that he was bolting toward my vehicle.
I rolled down my passenger side window as Sam ran up to it.
“You guys blow a tire or something? I thought we weren’t stopping ‘til Salina,” I said.
“Open the door,” he said, his eyes deadly serious.
“The fuck, Sam?”
“Open. This. Door.”
I unlocked the doors, watching Sam like he was crazy.
He got in on the passenger side, sighing, shaking his whole body once, like he’d just seen a ghost.
“What, did your mom and my dad play one too many Bon Jovi songs or something?”
“I don’t know what it was, but it was flying, and it was trapped in the back of the RV with me,” he said like he was recounting witnessing a murder.
I snorted. “You got out of the RV because you saw a fly?”
“It was not a fly,” he said emphatically. “It was three times that size. Big. Low buzzing. Fucking horrifying.”
“Carpenter bee,” I said. “Or hell, maybe a cicada.”
“Ugh,” he said. “Anyway, I’m not going back in there until it’s gone, and Greg and Mom said I was causing unsafe driving conditions from making them laugh too much.”
“You are one of a kind, Sam Hartman,” I said.
“You know I’m cute.”
Fucking adorable, I thought. I’d never in my life called another man adorable. It wasn’t a world I really used at all, actually, but there was no other word to describe seeing a fit, strong man running away from a single bug.
I looked out ahead and saw Cathy hop out of the driver’s seat of their RV. She gave me a gleeful thumbs-up, and I gave her one back.
Sam reached out of the passenger side window and held up his middle finger.
“Rude!” Cathy called out, returning the gesture.
“It’s not for you, Mom! It’s for the infiltrator! Love you,” Sam yelled back.
There was a dull ache in my heart. Seeing how close Sam was with his mom—how fun and free their interactions were—made me envious in a way I couldn’t describe. If my mom was still around, would I have that good of a relationship with her? Could I be that close with her?
I had grown a little more distant from my dad after he remarried Cathy. As a teenager, I couldn’t understand how he could be with anyone else.
But now, being older, I understood. Cathy was a ball of sunshine, just like her son. She loved the people around her. And even though I desperately missed my mom, I was happy for my dad, now.
He’d married into a beautiful family.
“Fox, roll your damn window up before more things fly in here,” Sam was saying from the passenger seat.
I looked at him, shaking my head. “How do you get through life as an adult man?”
“Listen, I have one phobia, and it’s all things insects,” he said. “I get through life just fine, thank you.”
In another minute I followed the RV back out onto the highway, the morning sun falling over the endless grass fields. As we drove out, Sam turned to look behind him.
“Oh, holy fuck,” he said. “They weren’t kidding when they said this was a palace on wheels.”
“It’s nicer than my penthouse in New York, to be honest,” I said.
Sam slowly got up, heading back into the main living area. “How many leather couches can one RV have?” he said.
I snorted. “Check out the panel on the right of the TV,” I said. “You can adjust the temperature and the sun shades however you’d like.”
As I drove, I heard intermittent gasps from the back of the RV. A couple of minutes later, Sam emerged again, sitting back in the passenger seat and buckling his seatbelt.
“This RV is a disgusting display of wealth, but I have to admit, I fucking love it.”
“I’d agree with that,” I said. “Check this out.”
I reached down to the little remote hanging near the side of his chair and handed it to him.
“This thing is a massage chair?” he asked, his green eyes going wide. “Of course it is. Yep. Makes sense. I bet the shower comes with a free blow job machine, too?”