Uber ride from San Francisco to Fresno cost?

I couldn't find a definitive answer online. The range was anywhere between 200 and 500 dollars, and I didn't like either end of that. What were the chances that they would refund me if I canceled my reservation for my hotel room tonight? Or that Bren would want to leave early?

Probably very little.

I had no reason to want to go back to Fresno. It was backward thinking, honestly. I'd leaped at the opportunity to come with Bren this weekend just for a chance to escape, and now I wanted to rush back home?

It had nothing to do with wanting to be in Fresno, though. I just didn't want to be here anymore. Not after how things had ended with Beau this morning. God, Bren was going to kill me when he realized how I'd acted toward his best friend.

My relationship with Bren Hadaway was complicated, but it had been easy lately. Nice, too, having him around. We didn't talk much, but we understood each other. Not many people understood me, and now I wondered if I'd risked losing one of the very few people who did.

Hoisting myself out of bed, I walked to the massive bathtub and stared at it.

Maybe I could wash everything away.

It wasn't likely, but I could try.

—

I watched the birds outside the art studio window on campus flit from one tree branch to another. Spring kept making tiny appearances lately before the wind would blow cold again. Of course it never got that cold here, but it was chilly enough to make me miss the hot sun.

Right now that sun was dipping lower, threatening to disappear completely. Dark clouds had begun to form over the bay, and I didn't like the look of that. Forcing my eyes back to my canvas, I pushed the thought of rain and storms to the back of my mind.

My favorite time at the art studio was evening—when most everyone else left to grab dinner before the university commons closed. To be clear, I liked a lot of the people I'd met in class. Really, I did. But when it came to getting some work done, I needed to be alone.

I thought Kyra and Andre would never leave earlier. They seemed happy enough to chat about the upcoming spring exposition instead of focusing on getting ready for said spring exposition. Granted, we were only a few weeks into the semester, and there was over a month to go before the showcase, but still. A lot of people would be attending, and getting their thoughts on if my work was worthwhile or if I was talentless would help me figure out what to do next year.

It felt silly, sometimes, going down this path of artistry. I fretted over money enough as it was, and yet, I continually made choices that reduced my cash flow. Hell, I didn't even have a job right now. Sitting here toying with paints seemed...useless at times.

But I couldn't give it up. Not completely. It gave me a sense of calm in a world of chaos.

"Thought I'd find you here."

"Beau," I said with a smile, turning around to find him walking across the studio with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a paper bag tucked beneath his other arm. My stomach did a little flip at seeing him an hour earlier than I'd planned.

The one person allowed to invade my sanctuary.

"Hey, baby girl," he said, swooping in to give me a brief kiss.

"What are you doing here?"

Things had been good between us for the last few weeks, though I knew Beau was frustrated about how often I shut down when he tried to bring up the Denver situation. I was slowly working up to the idea of letting him in to help, but at the same time, I continued to search for other options, other ways around it. There had to be something.

He dropped the paper bag onto the table. "Dinner."

"You brought me dinner?"

He shrugged. "Well, when you didn't respond to the group chat about how we were all meeting at the commons, I thought maybe you were busy finishing up. But then when you didn't show after twenty minutes, I realized you were just skipping dinner again."

The slight glare in my direction had me putting my hands up in defense. "This is the best time to get some work done. No one is around!"

Beau was unimpressed with my excuse. He opened both to-go boxes, revealing a pile of tacos in one and a crispy chicken salad in the other. My mouth immediately watered as the smell of greasy, beefy goodness wafted across the art studio. When was the last time I'd eaten anything? It was that PB&J I had before leaving for my noon lecture, wasn't it? God, no wonder I was hungry.

"You pick which box you want, and I'll eat the other," Beau said.

No way. Even if those tacos were literally calling my name, I would not be the one picking. "You brought it. You should get to pick."

Beau's glare intensified. "I like both. I like everything. Not exactly a picky eater over here."

Somehow I doubted that. "You're only picky with your drinks?"

"Oh, that reminds me." Beau swung his backpack down on the dried paint-covered tabletop. "I found this new kind of iced tea that looked good as fuck, so I bought a few cans."

He tossed the drink across the table so quickly that I barely had a chance to catch it. The can was cold, and my throat was parched, so I cracked it open and took a swig. Sweet, refreshing tea washed away the dryness in my mouth, and I nearly gave an appreciative moan.

"Oh, that's really good," I praised as I glanced at the label on the can to remember it for the future.

Beau rubbed his hands together in excited anticipation. "Excellent. Now, what's my girl want for dinner?"

I gave in. Apparently, my resolve was weak today. "I'll have the tacos."

He smiled, pushing the box over toward me. "Eat up."

It was said as a warning, like I'd better eat those damn tacos or else, and I couldn't help but poke the Beau bear.

"And if I don't?"

"Then I'll be disappointed."

That was all he had for me? "Disappointed, huh?"

Beau's eyes glittered, and I knew he was about to say something unexpected.

"Yeah, Nessa said she's staying at Grayson's tonight, so I had plans for you." He shrugged. "But if you don't eat anything...well, you probably won't have the energy for what I have in mind."

Bribing me into eating, was he? If I wasn't so goddamn hungry, I might have tested him. I'd bet any money Beau would give in within five minutes if I decided to tease him tonight—no matter how much I ate for dinner.

"And what do you have in mind?"

Beau shrugged again, watching me with mischief in his eyes. He took a bite of his salad without removing his gaze from mine, so I shoved a taco into my mouth while staring back at him. Sauce dribbled down my chin, making a laugh break through his expression.

After that, we ate in comfortable silence. Between bites of tacos and thoughts about what Beau's plans for later were, I continued to make progress on my painting, careful to tilt the canvas out of Beau's eyesight. The birds continued to chirp as the sun set, and even though Beau was in the room with me, I maintained a bit of my mindset from earlier. He sat on the opposite side of the table while he ate, and when he finished, he pulled a book from his backpack and dropped it on the table.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing my fork toward the book, which lay flat, keeping me from peeking at the cover.

Without speaking, he lifted it up so I could see the outside.

"The Princess Bride?" I asked with a slight laugh of disbelief.

"Well, yeah," he said as if it should have been an obvious choice. Picking it up and thumbing to the page where he'd left off, his eyes fell to the words while he spoke. "I have to find out what happens at the end."

Gosh, what a perfect man.

Suddenly, I found I was no longer interested in anything that didn't involve being as close as physically possible to my boyfriend. After walking to his side of the table, I grabbed the book and slid it out of his reach.

"Hey!" he protested, but his demeanor immediately changed as I slid onto his lap between him and the table. "Oh, hey."

"I promise you can read later tonight," I said with a laugh, wrapping my legs around him and leaning back against the table to secure myself.

"I told you." Beau's eyes flicked over me. "I have other plans for tonight."

"You still haven't told me what they are."

His gaze lingered on my mouth for a moment. "I remember that one time you claimed I couldn't make painting sexy, and I feel the need to correct you on that."

Laughing, I gestured around us, where the paints and brushes lined the windows. "Why not right now?"

Based on Beau's expression, he thought that idea was preposterous. And maybe even a little bit appalling. "Look, Collins. I'm not undomesticated like Bren and Grayson. I've got standards about where I get it on."

"Undomesticated?" I laughed.

"Yeah, I've heard Grayson has a piano fetish. And like hell does he have a piano in that frat house. Ergo, undomesticated."

"It's not a frat," I pointed out. "It's a like...a football house."

"Same thing."

"Also, I think he has a keyboard in his bedroom."

Beau raised a brow, his eyes growing sharp. Two hands grabbed each of my sides, squeezing a bit. "And exactly how do you know what Grayson has in his bedroom, baby girl?"

Because my drunk ass got lost on the way to the bathroom that one night when I'd almost gone home with Steven, and I'd stumbled into a room overflowing with instruments. But I decided not to let Beau in on that little detail.

"So my art studio doesn't live up to your standards?" I asked, narrowing my eyes back at him and smiling when he seemed irritated by the switch in conversation topics.

"It would be if it really were your art studio," Beau said. "But it's a shared space."

I cocked my head to the side, my grin growing. "Our kitchen is a shared space."

Beau couldn't keep from matching my grin. "That's different. I clean that kitchen daily myself, and I do a damn good job. Besides, Nessa doesn't count."

"I feel like she might disagree with you on that."

"Nessa and I have an agreement, okay? It's all good."

"An agreement, huh?" I tossed back. "Why wasn't I invited to the roommate meeting that preceded this agreement?"

Rolling his eyes, Beau sighed like he was over this conversation. "Because it wasn't an official meeting, per se."

I laughed, shaking my head. I didn't care about the meeting or that he didn't think the studio was up to his getting it on standards. I didn't care if he thought Grayson had a piano fetish or that he lived in a frat house. I didn't care about any of that. I just liked that Beau was smiling and touching me and looking damn close to kissing me.

"I like talking to you," he said simply, lowering his eyes to my mouth.

Why did that little statement give me happy little shivers? It shouldn't be a surprise at this point, that he liked talking to me, but I still found myself biting down on a smile.

"I like talking to you, too," I whispered, leaning closer to him. Our breath mingled as Beau's palms coasted up my sides.

"It's kind of a dilemma," he muttered.

"A dilemma?"

"Yeah, 'cause I also really like kissing you."

A giggle slipped out of my lips. "I like kissing you, too."

He shook his head with mock regret. "Can't do both at the same time. Such a shame."

"Well," I started thoughtfully. "We've already done a lot of talking..."

"Hmm." Beau made a husky noise in his throat while he pretended to ponder that, wrapping his fingers around my throat and using his hold to pull me into him. "That's very true."

His lips brushed over mine in a soft kiss that juxtaposed his grip on me. At this point, I was ready to melt and crash and burn, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back eagerly, taking him by surprise. I coaxed his lips open, so I could tangle my tongue with his, and then I wiggled in his lap, trying to minimize any space between us. Beau groaned and broke off with a gasp.

"Fuck, Collins."

I frowned at him. "What? I thought we decided we were done with the talking and moving onto the kissing."

He raked a hand through his hair. "Yeah, but the way you're kissing me is going to make me break my standards."

"Your getting it on standards?"

"Yes," he grunted. "So let's head home before I'm forced to fuck you on this dirty-ass table."

I debated that. The table was definitely dirty; it was covered with dried paint and would probably require an entire bucket full of bleach to truly make it clean. But...

Beau tapped my hip. "Come on, baby girl."

Fine.

I pecked Beau on the lips before hopping off his lap and walking around the table to gather my things. A few minutes later, we strode side-by-side, meandering through the art building until we made it to the exit. Thunder broke through the skies the second we stepped outside, and I immediately tensed.

"You drove to campus?" Beau asked.

"Yeah, because I had to haul all of my shit." I gestured to the second bag I was carrying—the bag I wouldn't let Beau take from me before leaving the art studio.

Nodding, Beau put a hand on the small of my back and ushered me toward the parking lot. He didn't say anything, but I knew he was as concerned as I was that it would start raining before we made it to the car.

Luckily, it held off. But barely. Sprinkles began hitting the windshield as soon as I got into the driver's seat. And by the time Beau made it around to the passenger's side, the splattering of rain was louder. Heavier.

Lightning shot across the sky, and I sunk deeper into my seat.

Beau wrapped his hand around mine on the steering wheel. "Collins?"

"I just—" A slight tremor ran through my voice. "I just don't like storms very much."

I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye, a shadow of movement in the darkness. "It's the car, too, though. Right?"

"Right." The word came out as barely a whisper.

"Is this the same one?" he asked after a long pause.

I tried to take a deep breath, but all I could manage was short, shallow pulls of air.

Was this the same car? Yeah, it was the same car. It should have been totaled. I'd wished it had been totaled. But the Baileys paid for the cost of repairs within the weeks after the crash. At first, I'd thought it was a gesture of kindness, but as time passed, I realized it was entirely different. Just a cruel reminder.

"Yeah, and it—it was raining that night."

"Okay." He gently unwrapped my fingers from the wheel, and I realized how tightly I was gripping it. I transitioned that grip to Beau's hand instead, squeezing it as he spoke in soothing tones to me. "We have three options."

I nodded to show him I was listening.

"You scoot over and let me drive," he said. "Or I can run home, grab my car, and come back to get you, so we don't need to be in this car."

It was a comforting idea, not having to be in this car. It smelled like rain in here, which seemed obvious and unsurprising, considering the storm outside. But I could always taste the rain in this car. The storm and the turmoil. It didn't disappear. It clung to me like heavy raindrops.

But Beau going to get his car meant that he'd have to leave me first.

"It's raining," I said. "It's storming."

"I know."

"You'll get wet."

"You can warm me up later." He attempted a smile. "Rain won't kill me, sweetheart."

At the moment, it felt like it might kill me, though. Sit here alone in this car with the thunder rolling outside? No, thank you. I'd relive it. I knew I would. The minutes after the impact with Denver yelling and my ears ringing. I hated those minutes and all the minutes that followed.

"What's the last option?" I finally asked.

"We wait out the storm together," he said. "I'm in no rush, baby girl."

I turned to look at him for the first time and was shocked by the amount of concern in his eyes, the warmth that drew me in and surrounded me like a hug.

"You were in a rush ten minutes ago," I said, my throat dry.

Beau shook his head, a bit of sadness leaking into his expression. "You know me better than to think that's what I care about right now. Don't you?"

"Yeah." I took a shaky breath. "I do."

I did.

"Good." He kissed the back of my hand. "What'll it be, then?"

"You can drive."

Maybe Beau wasn't in a hurry to get home, but I was. I wanted out of this car and out of the rain. I wanted to be tight under the covers in Beau's bedroom by the next lightning flash.

So I handed everything over to Beau. And I realized it felt pretty good when he took the wheel.

✨

what do you think...

is Collins going to come around and let Beau

help her?

thanks for reading!

xoxo amelie