[Dawn]
The whole afternoon has been a blur of laughing and talking. It felt like old times. Kind of like how our dynamic was before the hook up, except, there is the hook up between us.
I think I should ask Aldo about it, I mean, does a hookup count if we don’t come? But the sexual tension over the last few hours has been growing the more relaxed we’ve become. And I’m not really sure what or where we stand on it. It’s a funny thing…
We’ve stopped for gas again and a bit more food. Everything is normal between us except for the growing tension. Every time a romantic song comes on, we both look at each other. Just a little glance of recognition. But enough for the tension with its billboard sign of sex to pop up. I can see it in his eyes, and he in mine. We both remember that pantry all too well…
It’s eight o’clock, and we’ve been on the road nearly twelve hours. I’m beat, and I haven’t done any driving. Not that I haven’t wanted to, but Aldo insists. I don’t take it to heart because he doesn’t mean it in any other way than that he just enjoys driving. And I enjoy sitting and chatting with him.
It almost seems possible… Us being together.
“So I was looking at the money in the bag from Sophie, and I think she’s put enough in there for a few stays.” He’s looking at the bag at my feet.
“Plus plane tickets back,” I say, taking the tickets out of said bag. “Which we’ll have to change at the airport.”
Aldo nods and keeps driving. He looks tired too, but he’s never yawned once. We’re on the outside, somewhere in the middle of Georgia. We’ve made great progress on the first day, and now he’s just looking for the right motel. He wants one with cable. Keeps saying something about a fight, or UFC. The thought of men fighting like that makes my eyes roll. But we finally find one, and he pulls in.
“So I was thinking we’ll park the van in front of my room,” he says.
The phrase hurts me. Like a slap in the face after the last few hours that we shared. His room? Then again, what was I expecting because of us enjoying driving? Do I figure that because we joked that we’d hook up? I look at him hurt.
“No?” he asks, suddenly worried by the look on my face.
“So we’re taking separate rooms then?” I ask.
“What? I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” he blinks in confusion. “No, I just-” Aldo shakes his head.
“Is my brother really that threatening to you?” I’ve decided we’re having this conversation.
Aldo pulls to a stop in front of reception. “We’re not talking about that. And no.” He gets out.
I get out too. “So he does, though? That’s why we can’t do anything. All these last hours were just for nothing?”
“What?” he says. He’s searching his pockets for the keys, forgetting he never took them out of the van. He goes back. “That’s not what I said or meant when I said I’d enjoyed these last few hours. I had fun. I-”
“Just still couldn’t hook up with me because of Andre,” I say. We may have joked all day, but I guess the pain is still there. Am I that tired that I want to pick this fight?
“That’s not it,” Aldo implores. He locks the van and walks past me to reception. He toes the door open as he walks, and I follow. We’re at the desk, and he dings the bell.
“So you are afraid of him?” I hiss.
He looks sideways at me and dings the bell again.
“Coward,” I utter as the lady comes out. I’m half teasing half not. I’m all one hundred percent hurt though.
His eyes bulge and his nostrils flare, he suddenly seems to grow ten times in size, except none of that gets directed towards me. Instead, he smiles at the old lady and taps the keys on the counter.
“Good evening,” he says.
“Good evening to you too,” she says, hand on the counter and leaning down into her seat. “Suppose you’re wanting a room.”
“Stink of the road, is that obvious?”
She laughs and clicks at her computer. “Oh, we get all kinds through here, but you don’t stink. The ones that stink,” she says looking at us with a face slightly twisted and sour. “They stink bad.”
Aldo laughs, and it dinks a chip in my armor. I suddenly feel a bit mean about the cowardly call.
“I’ll take it as a compliment then,” he says, now going to his wallet and taking out cash. “So what’s happening?”
“We’ve got an assortment of rooms at this fine motel. We ain’t got five stars but we can see the stars here. But for you two love birds, I can only put you up in our last room.”
“There are not two?” he asks, a look of surprise coming to his face. He leans forward on the counter to try to see her screen. “The car park is empty?”
She tilts it slightly away and looks at him like he’s trying to see behind the veil. She sours slightly. “That may be, Sherlock, but we’ve got the Bird Watchers of America Association here for the weekend. Booked up, and they all wander off for the nesting or some crap. I don’t particularly care, but they’re nice enough and keep a clean room. Even with all the bird noises.”
I can’t help but giggle, and she presses her tongue to her lip in appreciation of my laugh. Her eyes flash with joy.
“So the room?” she asks.
“The room,” Aldo replies. He folds a few bills and gives them to her. She takes it and gives change, along with two sets of keys.
“You’re in room twenty-eight. Last on the right.”
Aldo takes the keys, and we both head out. She makes another bird joke, but neither of us hears it. I try apologizing to him, but Aldo still says nothing. He starts the van, and we whip around in the parking lot real quick, shooting off to the end of the lot.
“C’mon, Aldo, I’m sorry,” I say, my voice soft but edged with frustration. “Look, I shouldn’t have called you a coward.”
He says nothing.
“But it’s valid, asking it. Is my brother’s presence too much for us to have anything? Even with all the fun we have.”
Still nothing. Instead, he throttles the steering wheel, the veins in his forearms bulging with tension.
The motel looms ahead, a U-shaped building with entry and reception at the bottom of the shape. We’re on the right-hand side as we come up the center.
Aldo gets out, sliding open the rear door to grab our stuff.
“Well, if you’re not a coward, you’re being childish,” I say, stepping closer, my voice cutting through the charged silence. I’m hurt, raw, and frustrated again. “You have a bunch of lame excuses why we shouldn’t be together. But then we have a good time. We clearly want each other. I’m just confused, Aldo. What are we now?”
We grind to a halt, standing face-to-face at the back of the van. I’m staring up into his blazing blue eyes, folding my arms tighter against the chill that’s not entirely from the air. His gaze locks on me like fire threatening to consume. I feel like he’s sizing me up, his jaw clenched, and I brace for him to unleash something volcanic in response to my stupid, damn words.
“I’m not a coward. Or childish. Or afraid of him.”
“Then what is it?” I ask, my voice trembling with equal parts anger and longing.
He steps closer. Too close. His warmth and scent overwhelm me, the tension crackling between us like a live wire.
“You want to know what we are now?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.