"What are you thinking about?" Ian asked me as we ate our burgers and fries. "You look sad again."
"I don't know if I'm sad, really." I told him before nibbling a fry and contemplating my words and the flavor of that greasy morsel. "It's that, well, I don't want to be on the road constantly, but I need to. I have to stay ahead of them."
"If you tell me who they are, I might be able to help." Ian's words sounded comforting when he spoke. And he took a bite of his own burger while waiting for my response.
"Thank you, but I can't. It'd be wrong to involve others in my problems." I told him this as I looked into his calming blue eyes. He had a nice face, a kind smile, and a determination inside of him.
"It's not a bother. It's what I do." He insisted, then bit into a few fries.
