Love is Hell; Mate is Heaven
A minibar stocked with things I didn’t dare touch.
I leaned against Zane, his arm a loose cage around me. Outside, the land was dry and red, spotted with scrubby trees and occasional streams. The sun bore down with no mercy.
“Where are we?” I asked without looking away from the window.
“Colorado,” he said.
I turned. My raised brows asked for more.
He chuckled, unlocked his phone, and pulled me closer. “Here. Look.” His chin rested on my shoulder as he opened the map, fingers pinching and sliding. “We’re here. Home’s here. By car, you’d take this highway, then this one—”