Chapter 8

I turned and ran for my bus, which was due to depart any minute.

* * * *

It was late afternoon when we pulled into the bus station in Cleveland, and it was bloody cold. There was snow on the ground. No wonder Will chose to go to Florida for the sunshine.

I got into the back of a taxi, gave the driver Will’s address in Shaker Heights, and sat back. The last few miles to get to Will were definitely the worst. All my doubts about whether he’d want me—despite what he’d said in the airport—kept raising their heads. Was I just a holiday romance to him? Could I make it work with us? He was older, brainier and liked classical music and stuff. Would he get bored with me, and…