The more I get to know him, the more I crave everything about him. I find myself looking forward to our evenings alone. He’s taken my body through highs I’ve never felt before. It’s more than sex though. We talk every night as he holds me close.

He shares little pieces of himself with me each day. He’s told me how my dad made him get serious. My dad taught him not only how to run a club but to run a business.

The love he has for his grandparents. His mom took off the first time when he was only days old. His grandparents stepped in and took care of him. When his mom came back months later, they tried to give her the space to be his mom. According to his Aunt, his mom was young and she didn’t have the patience to raise a rambunctious little boy and would take out her frustrations on him. He was just a toddler. His grandparents made the hard decision to put his safety first and kicked her out to save him further abuse after she broke his arm when he was two years old. There are so many pieces to the puzzle that make up Talon Ward Crews. Every little detail adds to the depth of my feelings for this man.

Stopping at a truck stop for dinner, Sass and I head in first to use the restroom and get a table. Just like every other truck stop in America, it has a gas station, open area for kiosks to sell a multitude of items from cell phones to truck accessories. There are showers inside the restroom, an internet café, and a full restaurant serving everything from Chinese, to Mexican, to Pizza. We settle ourselves into a booth while we wait for the guys to finish pumping gas.

“Okay girl, I love seeing you happy, but damn I miss our girl time.” A sad expression is in her eyes.

“I know Sass. I can’t help it. You know when we get back home this is all over for me.” I say fighting to keep my tears at bay.

“Doll, are you prepared to let him go?”

“What choice do I have? Prepared for it, hell no. I’ll deal with it when the time comes. There is no other option but to let him go.” I reply, looking across the table at her trying to reassure myself that I can walk away from Tripp at the end of this ride.

“You love him, don’t you?” Pausing, I’m unsure if I’m ready to answer this question.

“Yes.” I whisper. My admission settles on my chest like a pallet of bricks. How does someone prepare to say goodbye to the first person to make them feel truly alive? When the time comes I’ll have no choice but to say goodbye. Tripp’s life is in Catawba, not at the coast. I may be accepting of his lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean I actually fit into his life.