I’ve been really lacking at posting here so I’m going to do my best to get better about sharing things here. 🙂
Below is an excerpt from The Road That Leads To Us (or TRTLTU for short)
(unedited and subject to change)
My Chucks squeaked against the concrete floor as I followed Dean through the garage, outside, and around the side of the building to the set of stairs that led to the apartment above the shop. Dean was nearly two years older than me, and as soon as he graduated high school he’d moved in here and gotten his certificate to be a mechanic. He’d known from the time he was three and could hold a wrench that he wanted to be a mechanic like his dad. If only I was that lucky.
Dean swung the door open and waved me inside.
It looked much the way I remembered—muted gray walls, black leather furniture, and old timey western and sci-fi movie posters on the wall.
“Thirsty?” Dean asked, already moving into the small kitchen.
I slid onto one of the red leather barstools and nodded.
He opened the fridge and seemed to be searching for something. Finally, he pulled out a glass bottle of orange crush soda.
“Ah!” I squealed, reaching out with grabby hands. “I can’t believe you still get these!”
“’Course,” he shrugged, unscrewing the cap on another and leaning across the counter towards me, “they’re your favorite.”
“I haven’t had one of these in forever.” I gulped greedily at it.
“They don’t have Orange Crush soda in New York City?” He questioned with a raised brow.
“I’m sure they do,” I relented, rubbing the condensation off the glass with my thumb, “but not in a glass bottle. Plus, I wouldn’t be able to have it with you. This is our thing.”
He grinned at that. “I’ve missed you, Will.”
“Bleh,” I gagged, “I wish that nickname would die already. I have a vagina, therefore I’m not a Will.”
He chuckled and leaned his head back, swallowing a large gulp of the soda. “I’ve missed you, Willow.” He amended.
“I’ve got somethin’ else for you.” He began shuffling through a kitchen drawer. When he found whatever it was he was looking for, he exclaimed, “Aha!”
He held the blue raspberry lollipop out for me with a crooked smile. “Been saving all of these for you.”
“My momma always told me not to take candy from a stranger,” I quipped, taking the lollipop anyway—there was no way I was passing up blue raspberry. It was my favorite.
“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not a stranger.” He winked.
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