It's late afternoon by the time we step out the front door together. Phoenix hasn't hinted at where he's taking us, but the blankets and hoodies in the back of his SUV that weren't there yesterday have my attention. The daytime temperature in Las Vegas at this time of year definitely doesn't call for blankets and hoodies. Walking outside for ten feet from the house to the vehicle in the desert inferno is enough to need a personal bubble of ice-cold air conditioning, although the heat will let up later in the day when the sun dips below the horizon and the ball of fire in the sky gives way to twilight. He's either taking us somewhere with cooler temperatures, or we'll be somewhere outdoors into the night.
Should I let on that I've noticed the blankets and hoodies and ask about them, and see if he'll give me a clue about what he has planned? Maybe not. If there's one thing I've remembered about Phoenix over the last few weeks, it's that he enjoys planning things for us and keeping me in suspense. I shouldn't ask questions or throw out guesses that could ruin my surprise. Plus, I'm all for anything he can focus on that sparks his happiness right now, considering the news about Len that hit him with the force of a Mack truck. However, if there's a chance we'll be gone into the night, then I need to get my energy to a level where I can sustain it. Afterglow brings its own brand of buzz, but I'm far from feeling fully charged.
"There's something I need to ask you before we leave the driveway," I say, right as we start moving.
Phoenix applies the brake and turns his head toward me. I can't see his eyes with his sunglasses covering them, but his dimple is already visible. He probably expects me to ask where we're going and is already coming up with vague answers or riddles to respond with.
"Ask away."
"Can you find us the most ridiculously high-energy music to listen to, and can we go by Starbucks on the way?"
His dimple deepens when he flashes me a full-fledged smile. "You're reading my mind. Yes to both." I expect him to resume driving, but he keeps his foot on the brake and lifts up his sunglasses so he can lock eyes with me. "Are you up for going out? I know I was all about it before, but we can do a Starbucks run and then take it easy if you'd like to."
"I'm good right now," I assure him. "I'm making sure I don't fade out later if we're gone for a few hours. You'd think I was up all night or something." I reach over and gently squeeze his arm. "Not that I'm complaining."
After a quick side trip to a Starbucks a few blocks away, Phoenix navigates us to a freeway on-ramp, with the requested high-energy sounds of Y2K dance music as our soundtrack. It's a departure from the love songs and random playlist reveals of our recent outings, and it's also a huge and almost cheesy throwback, but it helps to shake me awake.
The scenery of our drive is about as opposite to the Strip as it gets. My other Vegas expeditions have only been for a night or two and normally involved a concert or other performance, a casino, or a nightclub. I've strolled through the Grand Canal shops at the Venetian plenty of times, and I've been on the High Roller. I even did the LINQ zip line once on a dare. But I haven't ventured much outside of that area of the city, except for Torin's house, and now the neighborhood where Phoenix is staying. What I didn't know is how scenic Nevada can be, or what lies outside the city and beyond the only thing I know, which is the stretch of Interstate 15 between the Las Vegas Strip and California. Phoenix seems familiar with it all, navigating roads without the help of a GPS. I sit back and watch the landscape around us, until the road signs we pass clue me in that we're headed toward Arizona.
"Are we fleeing the state?" I inquire.
"Temporarily." He offers me no more than this and an enigmatic twitch of his eyebrows.
I don't know what's in Arizona that's a reasonable driving distance to be there and back tonight, since I'm pretty sure he isn't taking us to see the Hoover Dam, but a chime from my phone distracts me from asking more questions. I unlock the screen and see a reply from Ava to the question I sent her a couple of hours ago.
Negative on seeing Nash. I texted him to find out what his plans are after I'm done with my event tonight, but he's leaving for a few days for session work at a studio somewhere that isn't near Vegas. It's fine.
Ava is typically breezy about guys, and I don't doubt what she said about it being fine, but I also know her rules. Asking Nash about his plans instead of letting him be the one to ask her is out of character. I could be reading into something that isn't there, but my curiosity about her sudden interest in being more than friends with him has soared to new heights.
You still aren't off the hook for explaining what almost brought your hookup on. In your own famous words, I only want tea and you'd better spill all of it. But my condolences to your sex life.
The three dots on my screen are evidence of Ava already replying, and I can't hold back a quiet laugh at the thought of the sarcasm-laced zinger she's certain to be sending my way.
"What's so funny?" Phoenix asks. My laugh must have been louder than I thought if he noticed it over the pulsing music.
"I'm just teasing Ava. You'll be happy to know Nash is heading out of town for a studio session and she won't be seeing him again while she's here."
"The universe works its magic in mysterious ways. Did he say where he's going?"
Even though he's made his feelings about Nash and Ava together abundantly clear, there's something off in his delivery and tone. In truth, his energy has also been off since the news about Len. Maybe bringing the subject up again in a way that's less specific to him will get him to open up more than he has.
"It doesn't sound like it. I wonder if he's heard the news about the break in Len's case yet? He's probably losing his mind if he did."
Phoenix keeps his eyes on the road. "What makes you say that?"
"He said something about still being desperate for answers at the show last night."
"He talked to you about Len?"
"It was when you were getting the third degree from Torin. He asked if my book was based on her disappearance and if I had any theories about what happened. He also asked me to get his phone number from you or Ava if I felt like bouncing ideas off of him, or if I had questions about Len."
A preternatural silence greets my words. I pause, really taking in what I can glimpse of Phoenix's face. There's a crease along his forehead, and his mouth is parted, almost as though his jaw muscles have gone limp.
"You look stunned." This is an understatement.
A few more seconds pass before he answers. "I'm surprised he brought her up, that's all. He almost never talks about her."
He lapses back into a contemplative quiet, leaving me at a loss for what else to say about Len or the feelings and thoughts he's been grappling with. I shouldn't poke at this more while he's driving, anyway, since it's a subject that's too emotionally charged to dive into in any depth when we're hurtling down a freeway at our current high speed.
The best thing I can do is push this out of my mind, but it refuses to budge. It's as if Len's presenceâor the ghost of herâsits between us on the center console, bobbing along to the bass-driven beat of the song on the radio. But that's a ludicrous thought, isn't it? Phoenix hasn't said or done anything that should make me feel or imagine an energetic wedge between us, and I'm a much more secure person than this. Or I thought I was.
Perhaps he senses the shift in my mood, or what I'm not saying, because he takes one hand off the steering wheel and reaches for my hand.
"I'm sorry. I wanted this weekend to be light and fun, and to focus on us and not the outside world or anything with our friends. That's on me. I insisted we deal with Torin last night instead of leaving it for another time, and I'm the one who's been in my head today, speculating about things I don't have control over."
My first instinct is to tell him it's okay. He couldn't have predicted running into Nash on our way to Salt & Pepper last night, or that Nash would mention seeing us to Torin. And he certainly couldn't have anticipated what came over the TV airwaves while he cooked for us in the kitchen. I don't know that it is okay, though. Last night involved some avoidable drama, and it doesn't take clairvoyance to know he's holding things back from me when it comes to Len. It might not be a fair comparison, and it could also be a self-preserving part of me looking for red flags, but he admitted to hiding his true feelings about significant things in his life the last time we were in a relationship. That didn't end well for either of us.
He strokes his thumb across my palm. "Any chance of granting me a do-over with what I have planned for today?"
My options are to start a more serious conversation about what's on my mind, or to set it aside for now, enjoy the present, and bring it up when we aren't in a moving vehicle with his attention needing to be on safely getting us to our destination. Who knows if it will even still bother me then?
"I'll consider it if you tell me what those plans are. Based on where we are, I've ruled out that it's seeing Thunder From Down Under."
He cracks a smile at my reference to our earlier kidding around in the kitchen. "We can drop by there on our way home."
"I'll keep that in mind if you really fumble, but you're still going to tell me what we're doing before then."
Phoenix signals to turn off the highway. A sign up ahead tells me we're heading for somewhere called Willow Beach.
"I thought we could go on a sunset and moonlight kayak tour through the Black Canyon and Emerald Cave, and then sit by a bonfire while we make a disaster of a few marshmallows and some s'mores. There will be a tour guide and other people in kayaks, but it will be just you and me together and paddling in ours."
Leave it to him to find us places in the desert with the most romantic names. They sound straight out of a movie. I pretend to sigh, even though I'm probably already starry-eyed from the images my imagination has conjured up for what the Black Canyon and Emerald Cave look like at sundown.
"Fine. You already get points for working in a sunset and paddling in the moonlight under the stars, so you might have saved yourself from a night of male strippers."
"Who's the one fishing for comments about male stripteases and who should be part of that now?"
"Nope. That's just where your mind goes." I adopt an air of angelic innocence. "I, on the other hand, can't wait to see the places you mentioned. Stay focused, mister, or I'll send a wave of water at you with my paddle when we're kayaking."
"I could do the same and then comment about making you w--"
"Don't you dare," I interrupt, swatting at his shoulder. "Save the innuendo for later."
"What's happening later?" This time he's the one who should have a halo above his head.
"If you have to ask..." I try my hardest, but fail at smothering a grin.
He contorts his face into an expression of fake anguish. "Please don't say it. I don't want you to go back to LA unless I'm right there with you."
"Then you'll just have to hurry up and finish what you're working on out here."
Phoenix slows the vehicle and signals to turn into a parking lot along the side of the road. He waits until we've parked before he speaks again.
"You have no idea how much I can't wait for that day."
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ðððððððððððð
If you're giving Phoenix some side eye right now, and wanting to shake Del and tell her she was listening to her intuition and not being insecure about this whole Len thing, then you aren't alone. Dude is even making ME wonder about what he hasn't told her, exactly how hung up on Len he is, and why.
But that's just me. What do you think?