“Well, you’d be required to stay in a bikini for at least fifty percent of the day. So I wouldn’t need that line.” I don’t even know what I’m saying. A summer of half-dressed women is exactly what I’d had in mind for my vacation. But suddenly, that fantasy seems completely lame and . . . boring.
Natalie reaches out and touches my jaw. “You don’t have to do this, you know? Make me feel better. I’m all right. I know what last night was.”
I grab her hand and decide what the hell, why not be honest? What do I have to lose? Bluebird on the loose. Give chase. “I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m being serious. If you’ve got no one counting on you for the summer, you could come with me. Creative writing is your thing, right? Instead of being stuck in one place trying to get inspired, why not go out and see the country? Imagine all the stories waiting out there for you.”
She’s watching me with this kind of wonder. “You’re being serious.”
“I am.” And I realize that’s the damn truth. I want to take her with me.
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.”
She puts her forehead to mine. “You’re crazy.”
“Yep. Totally. Want to be crazy with me?”
“Monroe, God, I can’t just—I don’t know, flit off with someone I just met for the whole summer.”
“You can. If that’s what you want,” I say, and tip her face toward me to kiss her. “But I’m not asking for an answer now. I’m giving you an open invitation. I’ll have your car fixed and delivered to you by Tuesday. I leave on Thursday at seven in the morning. I want you to come. If you want that, too, meet me at my place. If not, I’m glad we had last night. I won’t forget it. Or you.”
Her eyes shine a bit at that and I’m worried I’ve made her cry, but she blinks it away and smiles. “You’re trying to wreck me, Monroe Hawkins.”
“No, I follow all traffic laws.”
She smacks my chest, and I catch her hand and kiss it.
“I’ll see you around, princess.”
She backs up onto the sidewalk, and her hand slips from mine. I pull away before I can hear her say good-bye.
Chapter 10
Natalie
I must be delirious from no sleep and great sex because as Monroe rides away, I kind of want to cry. And call him back. And tell him yes. But even though I know I’m going to make some changes in my life, I can’t imagine that going on a three-month road trip with a guy I met less than twenty-four hours ago is a wise idea.
What if, by week two, we hate each other?
What if last night was a fluke?
What if . . . it’s amazing?
I put my hand over my eyes at the last thought. Shut up, Nat. Get some sleep and get it together. This is not an option. Maybe I can just tell Monroe to look me up when he gets back in town, and we can see if our chemistry really means something more than a one-nighter.
I dig my keys out of my purse and head toward the front door, praying that the asshole formerly known as my boyfriend is curled up with the skank. I can’t handle him right now. But, of course, when I walk in, he’s on the couch in the living room like some overbearing parent waiting on the rebellious teenager to come home.
He gives me the up-and-down look, taking in my wrinkled dress and bare feet. “Seriously?”
For some reason, I find this comical. I want to laugh. I want to sing that P!nk song about the walk of shame. Something about looking like a hot-ass mess and wearing last night’s dress. I’m walking, I’m walking. I snort.
“Are you drunk?” he asks, his lip curling in disgust. “If that guy got you hammered and—”
“Shut up, Caleb.” I drop my shoes by the door. “I’m not drunk. I’m tired and want to go to my room without having to deal with you.”
He inhales slowly and releases a God-grant-me-the-patience sigh, pushing to his feet. “Fine, you’re right. That didn’t come out the way I wanted. I’m here to apologize. Any mistakes you made last night were my fault. I drove you to it.”
“Oh, how big of you,” I say, heavy on the sarcasm, low on the patience. “But the only mistake I made was not realizing how much of an asshole you are sooner. Anything that happened after that was far from a mistake. Best. Night. Ever.”
The expression on his face goes tight as he stalks over to me. He puts his hands on my shoulders and attempts a sincere look. “Listen. Nothing happened with Rebecca. After you left last night, I brought her home. Let’s talk about this. We can work on things.”
I shrug out of his grasp. “You think I care what you did or didn’t do with Rebecca? You two can have each other. Go wake her up for a morning fuck. I don’t care.”
His lips part. He’s probably shocked that I cursed. I usually keep that in check around him. He thinks it’s unladylike. “What did that guy do to you? I don’t even recognize you.”
I shake my head with a bitter laugh. “You never did, Caleb. That’s the problem. And what that guy did to me is none of your business.” I push up on my toes and get close to his ear. “But it was fucking fantastic.”
And with that, I stroll past him into my bedroom and shove the door closed behind me.
The reflection in my dresser mirror greets me from across the room.
I don’t recognize that rumpled, confident, smiling person either.
Hello, Me. Meet the new girl.
Chapter 11
Monroe
“Is that all of it?” my brother asks, tossing a duffel bag in the back of the van.
I check the clock on my phone. Not for the first time. “Yeah, all I’ve got left is hooking up the trailer for my bike.”
Will braces his hand on the roof of the van and leans in. “You did a damn good job on this, little bro. Though, you should’ve kept the blue shag carpeted walls. That shit was awesome.”
“No fucking way. I would’ve felt like I was sleeping inside of Cookie Monster.”
He snorts and pushes off the van. “You got all the food out of the fridge?”
“Yeah, there’s a box of stuff from the pantry on the counter. Take what you want and ditch the rest. You sure you don’t mind keeping an eye on the place?”
“I’ve got it covered. No worries.”
“Cool.” The house is the one we grew up in, so I know he knows all its quirks and the things that could come up.
He closes the rear door and turns to me, arms crossed, that I-am-the-all-powerful-all-knowing-big-brother look on his face. “What’s with you? You’ve been talking about this trip nonstop for the last few months and now you look like you’re on the way to a funeral.”
I shrug. But the move feels stiff, forced. “I’m fine. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep. I’ll be good once I get some caffeine.”
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t push me on it. “I’ll take care of hitching up the trailer. You go inside and make sure you didn’t forget anything.”
I tuck my phone in my pocket and go back into the house, knowing I need to get my head out of my ass. I have three months ahead of me. No obligations. No work. And a different view every day. Being in a shitty mood because a girl isn’t as insane as I am is pointless. I know what I’m doing is out there. And the fact that I asked a near stranger to come with me probably makes me certifiable. So why should I be surprised that she isn’t on board?