Chapter 43

I’m typing away on my laptop, staring at a blank cursor and screen. I took a few screenwriting classes in college, but it was so long ago that I’m reading books to help me refresh.

As I place my fingers on the keys, Easton enters. When I see his expression, I know something is wrong.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

His jaw is clenched tight. “Would you stay with me if all of this disappeared tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation, moving to him. When I’m close enough to wrap my arm around him, I do. “I’d love you more than I do now because things don’t matter. The amount of time we spend together is what’s important. We could move to Texas and live in the loft apartment above the hair studio downtown. I’d get a job at the bookstore and you could open up an art gallery and fill it with your drawings. I’d be just as happy because it’s me and you, Easton. I choose you. Not the materialistic things that come with being with you.”

“Thanks,” he says, smiling, pressing his lips against my forehead. “I’m so fucking lucky. I love you, Lexi.”

“I love you. Please, tell me what happened?” I ask. This is the first time I’ve seen him like this.

“Everyone believes Weston and I tried to defraud the company, so we’ve been suspended until further notice.”

I search his face, not fully understanding what’s going on. “Defraud?”

“They know about the original intentions of our marriage arrangement, darling,” he whispers, and I pull him into my arms. “Recordings of my conversations with Weston regarding faking a relationship with you were leaked to the public. It’s a runaway train, and I can’t stop it.”

I kiss him sweetly, holding his cheeks in my palms. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”

“I love you so fucking much; it hurts.” He kisses me like I’ll disappear if he closes his eyes.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. We know our truth, and that’s all that matters,” I confirm.

“Let’s go on a road trip. Me and you,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “Weston said we need to disappear. And there’s no other person I’d rather get lost with.”

“Really?” I ask. “Route 66. That’s a bucket list item. We could drive from Chicago to California. How much time do we have?”

“However long it takes. We’ll sleep under the stars, take dumb roadside photos, and go on an adventure. Let the road guide us.”

“This sounds … fun.” I nod, chewing on my bottom lip and laughing. “I’ll go wherever you want. When do we leave?”

“Now.” He smiles against my mouth.

I pull away tug his suit jacket. “You’re the magic, Easton. Whatever you lose, you’ll get back.”

He nods, his gaze so intense that it nearly steals my breath. His confidence returns in a snap. “You’re right.”

“You told me that,” I say. “So, you’re right.”

Easton and I pack a suitcase each. He grabs money from his safe and shoves it into a leather duffel bag.

“Uhh, how much is that?”

“A hundred thousand,” he says.

My eyes widen. “No, we are not traveling with a bag of money like criminals.”

“It will be fine.”

He zips up the bag and I finally notice what he’s wearing—jeans, a T-shirt, a baseball cap, and sunglasses. I can’t help but admire him.

“You’re eye-fucking me again, Lexi.”

“It’s too easy.”

He walks over to me. My hand slides behind his back and I hold him tight, not knowing how he’s keeping it together so damn coolly. I can tell he’s working scenarios out in his head, because he’s calculative in everything he does.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

“No. Weston’s taking care of it.”

He grabs my hand and we leave like we robbed the place.

When we make it downstairs to the cars, Easton goes to the keys, and when he unlocks the door to the Charger, I shake my head.

“You’re searching for trouble,” I say, sliding across the seat.

“We’ve found it,” he says, walking to the driver’s side. After he cranks the car, he grabs my hand and kisses it. “Ready?”

“Hell yeah,” I say, squeezing his thigh.

“To Chicago we go. Then, it’s two thousand four hundred forty-eight miles of pure fucking fun with my wife.”

I smile. “Just me and you, babe. Bonnie and Clyde. Running away from it all.”

He chuckles, leaning over and brushing his lips against mine. “No fucking regrets.”

When we exit the garage, Easton turns on the radio and blasts some oldies from the ’90s—his teenage years.

The sidewalks are full of paparazzi waiting for us—more blatant than usual. The number of flashes nearly blinds me, and I cover my eyes, trying to shield them from the brightness.

Easton lifts his middle finger out the window and flips them off as he burns out. Not long after, we’re leaving the city and worries behind us.

I glance in the side-view mirror, seeing the buildings and blue skies fade into the distance as he opens the engine up on the highway.

As we cross the bridge, I do a quick Google search, and I see the Internet is out of control with articles and photos about our fake relationship. I click on the video of him and Weston and watch it. Easton glances at me, keeping his hand on my shoulder as we cruise.

“Meh,” I say. “How does this prove that we’re not together? Shouldn’t matter.”

“My father knows the true intention behind our relationship, and it makes me seem untrustworthy. In a fucked-up way, I understand, but I also expected grace after things changed.”

EASTON CALLOWAY IS A SCAMMER.

FAKE MARRIAGE CONFIRMED.

EASTON CALLOWAY IS STILL ON THE MARKET.

THE GREATEST ACT OF ALL TIME.

GIVE THIS FAKE COUPLE AN OSCAR.

They used pictures from our time in Fiji and called it overacting.

I suck in a deep breath, then turn off my phone. I place it in the glove box. Easton hands me his hand, and I do the same. We have a GPS guiding us to the hotel we’re stopping at for the night.

“Just us,” he says. “No devices for the rest of the time.”

“I can do that,” I tell him, smiling.

“Want to join me in my fuck it era?”

“I thought I already had,” I tell him, shooting a wink, and he gives me that smirk.

The engine revs, and soon, we’re soaring down the highway without a care in the goddamn world. Together. The way it was always supposed to be.

Ten hours later, we’re pulling off into a roadside motel parking lot. The M is crooked, and the curtains look like they were hung over thirty years ago. Easton glances at this place, which looks like it was dropped straight from a Hollywood set.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks, glancing at me. I can sense his unease.

I tilt my head at him. “Are you scared?”

“Scared?” His voice lowers. “Darling, I’ll fuck you on the ground. I don’t care.”

“Adventure,” I tell him with a nod, and he shakes his head.

He opens my door and we make our way to the office. The bell rings on top of the door. A coil of cigarette smoke twirls upward from the ashtray on the counter. A woman with blue eyeshadow and bright pink lipstick studies the two of us.

“Where’d you two come from, Hollywood?” She glances between us.

I can’t help but snort. “I thought the same thing when we pulled into the parking lot.”

The world melts away when he glances at me and then turns back to her. “We’d like a room for the night.”

She glances at our rings, inhales her cigarette, then blows the smoke toward the cracked-open window. “I need you to fill out this paperwork and gimme your driver’s license. Then, it’s one hundred dollars a night, plus a two-hundred-dollar deposit.”

Easton sets five hundred dollars down on the counter. “You can keep the change if you don’t make me fill that out,” he says.

She gives us a physical key, and we walk outside.

“It’s going to be fine,” I say, trying to stay positive as we walk to our motel room.

He places the key inside the door, then swings it open, flicking on the orange-tinted lights. There’s a huge stain on the carpet in the middle of the floor.

“Nope,” he tells me. “I can’t do this.”

“A dingy motel is your limit?” I laugh.

“You found it,” he tells me, turning around. He returns the key to the office, grabs my hand, and leads me to the car without glancing over his shoulder.

“You paid five hundred dollars for that room.”

He laughs. “Oh fucking well. In the car we go. I’ll figure it out,” he says, opening the door. He shuts it, shaking his head.

Easton climbs in and taps the GPS, programming in a different location. It would be easier to turn on our phones, but it’s best if we don’t.

Twenty-five minutes later, we’re pulling into the parking lot of a camping store. Easton and I go inside and grab the gear we might need for the night.

An hour later, we turn into a roadside campground. We’re assigned our campsite and given the code to the bathroom doors.

Easton and I quickly pitch the tent before it grows any darker. He purchased a box of wood, and we use a Quick Start block to get the fire going.

When our base camp is set up, he sits in a chair and I take his lap, like we did all those weeks ago.

With his arms wrapped around me, he kisses my neck right below my ear before he whispers, “I’ll never take us for granted.”

“Me neither, babe.”

Gently, Easton kisses me. “No matter what happens, I’ll always love you.”

“Easy days and hard days, remember? This is one of the hard ones,” I whisper. “And that’s okay. We’re traveling the country, camping under the stars, and we’ll have the time of our lives.”

He holds me tighter. “I already am. Weston will fix this. I saw it in his eyes; nothing can stop him when he gets like that. It’s the only time I back away and let him take full control of situations.”

“I trust him,” I say. “He’s done so much for us already.”

“I have a feeling it’s more than we know.” He twists my hair in his finger and smiles at me.

I lean back on him, smiling as we stare at the fire. His finger traces circles on my stomach as he slowly breathes in my ear.

Right now, it might feel like the world is burning around us, but in the end, we’ll still be standing stronger than ever.