Dating the Wrong Guy: On the Road

My palms were sweating. It was pitch darkness, a cloudy, starless night, with a sense of morning arising above the land. Paralyzed, with my heart jammed in my throat, I remained leaned on his chest, feeling how frightened he was too. Perhaps the world will really end today, and our love, which, I thought, we were determined to fight for, will never reach its fullest potential.

Robert’s eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror, on the police officer approaching our car. We pulled over, aside on the dusty road, somewhere close to Pittsburgh, after nine hours of drive.

“Don’t say anything, pretend you were asleep,” Robert told me.

I quickly covered myself with his jacket that was lying on top of my knees keeping me warm, rolled over on my right shoulder and closed my eyes, pretending to be cozily sleeping. The police officer knocked on the driver’s window...

© 2020 Bella Rose (Hljóðbók): 9781662209765

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Hljóðbók: 21 april 2020