The Assignment

Chapter 8

Most people describe a fiery, heated kiss as feeling sparks, fireworks or atomic bombs. I felt all of those things, along with a zap of lightheadedness over the intensity of the kiss. Before, I'd been telling myself that I shouldn't have the feelings that were developing for the man I barely knew. Three days seemed way too short a time span to start thinking about Joey the way I was. It was wrong – inappropriate - to have romantic thoughts about a police officer who was improvising a form of witness protection on me. But despite the multitude of reasons I shouldn't have allowed the kiss to happen, I couldn't ignore the flutters of happiness throughout my body as his soft lips pressed against mine. I hadn't felt anything like that in so long. For those few short seconds, everything faded away, leaving me in a blissful state I hadn't thought to be possible during such chaos. All thoughts of Lydia, the hitman, my overdue schoolwork, and my surely-pissed-off boss evaporated while I melted into Joey's warm embrace. His left hand slid its way down my lower back while the other rested on my hip, his thumb massaging circles into my skin. While the kiss only lasted a few impeccable seconds, it felt like a lifetime of passion thrown into one simple motion. If circumstances had been normal, I would've furthered our actions.

Joey snapped back into reality mid-kiss, his hands leaving my body and a shocked chill sweeping through me when his lips retreated from mine. He appeared stunned at first, as if his own actions had caught him off guard. Blinking several times, he pushed his wavy bangs back, staring at me like he couldn't figure out what to say. I was equally surprised. Not so much by the kiss, but more so his swift withdraw.

At first, I thought I'd made a wrong move that had caused him to pull away. My previously confident demeanor morphed into apprehensiveness, concerned he might be angry with me. What could I have done wrong though? He was the one who initiated the kiss. Maybe he didn't like kissing you as much as he thought he would, my subconscious suggested. While I was pretty sure that was the reason, I didn't want to believe it, suddenly feeling so insecure.

I backed away from Joey, turning toward the window. I placed my palms flat on the ledge, leaning toward the glass and looking down at the parking lot while I tried to regain my composure. I wished I had the option to leave. I was embarrassed and insecure and I couldn't even escape the scene to shake it off. I knew full well that Joey wouldn't let me go for a walk alone to clear my head. While I appreciated his concern, I wasn't sure I could handle being stuck in a bubble of tension with him until the discomfort dissipated.

Without saying a word, Joey tossed his dirty clothes into his plastic bag and retrieved his burner phone from the nightstand. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, trying to determine if he was about to explode again. He grabbed my bag of clothes as well, tossing both over his shoulder and grabbing the blue backpack Mike had given him the day before. I had yet to see what was inside.

"Let's go," was all he said.

I frowned in confusion as he opened the door.

"We're leaving," he nodded toward the hallway. "Come on."

I reluctantly followed him down to the lobby to check out. It was beginning to really irritate me how he wouldn't sit down and tell me his plans before leaving.

Close to three hours of driving a good ten miles over the speed limit placed us in Louisville, Kentucky by two o'clock. Neither Joey nor I had spoken a single word the entire way. The backpack in the floorboard beside my feet had held my interest for most of the trip, but I didn't ask Joey what was in it. He was still brooding from our lapse in judgement earlier.

The city's skyline in the rearview mirror confirmed we weren't stopping in Louisville.

"Where are we going?" I finally broke the deafening silence.