Page 43 of The Ex-cavenger Hunt

All great points, and I know there are more, but . . . the trip is almost over, and I don’t know if I want him to tell me something like, “You’re fun, but this is not my thing.” I mean, we’ve talked about all his relationships—zero. And how he feels about being in a long-term relationship—he doesn’t want them. So really, I should take this as a fun trip with really amazing perks.

His delicious body.

When we arrive in Los Angeles, he leaves me at a very cozy café in Silver Lake. He has to see a client, and our accommodations aren’t ready just yet.

I order an oat milk matcha latte, my fingers wrapped around the steaming mug. The bustling sounds of the city—honking cars, chattering pedestrians, and the occasional siren—filter through the large windows, but inside the café, a sense of calm prevails.

Indie music plays in the background, mingling with the gentle hum of conversation from the other patrons. I take a sip of my latte, savoring the warmth and the subtle sweetness, as I pull out my phone to call my sister.

“Finally, you’re calling,” Zoe’s voice greets me, a mixture of relief and exasperation in her tone. “I’ve been worried about you, you know? Sure, you keep sending texts with pictures of the places you’re visiting, but what if Ethan was doing that to make us believe you were still alive—but you weren’t?”

I roll my eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “You have an overactive imagination, Zo.”

“My little sister went on a road trip around the country with a stranger,” she retorts, her voice rising slightly.

“He’s not a stranger,” I remind her, my fingers absently playing with a strand of my hair. “Cleo is marrying his brother, remember? The only reason he offered his help was to stay away from his parents.”

“Who apparently are pretty overwhelming and meddlesome,” Zoe says and laughs. “Mom can’t stand them. By the way, she’s concerned that you haven’t called her. Again, your texts are too casual for us to believe it’s you.”

I sigh, my shoulders slumping slightly. “It is me. She’s just asking questions, telling me to go to the next event with the Montgomerys and . . . well, what am I supposed to tell her when I’m not even there?” I rake my fingers through my hair, frustration bubbling up inside me.

“The truth?” Zoe suggests, her voice softening. “That you decided to run away with the brother because you two are too similar.”

“Au contraire,” I defend myself, my brows furrowing. “We’re not that similar.”

“Max and I think you two are—and we know you both really well,” she insists, a hint of amusement in her voice.

My ears perk up at the mention of Max’s name. “You and Max?” I ask curiously, leaning forward in my seat, my eyebrows raised. “We’re talking about Ethan’s best friend?”

“Yeah, he’s concerned that you’re a serial killer,” Zoe laughs. “But deep down, we both think you two might hit it off and fuck it up because neither one of you is good at this love thing.”

I chuckle, but I’m also touched by her concern. “I know, Zoe. And I appreciate it, I really do. But I’m okay, I promise. In fact, I’m more than okay.” I lean back in my chair, my free hand absently playing with the corner of a napkin on the table.

“So, tell me about them,” Zoe prompts, curiosity lacing her words. “The exes you’ve found and hopefully scratched away from your life. What happened with them?”

I tell her about every guy we’ve visited. The assholes, the cheaters, and the ones who were just . . . not that into me—and I wasn’t into them either.

“Why did you waste your time with Kevin?” she asks. “No one can ever come back from what he did. He broke your trust and then tried to make it your problem.”

“I remembered once I was there,” I say, adding Marco, Alex, and . . . “There’s Colt,” I begin, a fond smile tugging at my lips. When I tell her that he’s now dating his bandmate, she agrees with me. “They make sense. They’ve been friends for years and—are clearly soulmates.”

A part of me wants to tell her about Ethan, how he’s . . . different. Guarded, at first. But once you get past those walls, he’s got this incredible depth to him. He’s smart, driven, and he challenges me in ways I never expected. My heart races at the thought of him, and I feel a warmth spreading through my body that has nothing to do with the latte I’m drinking.

“So I take it you’re almost done,” she asks. “I understand why you had to do this—kinda—but you have to come back home soon.”

“Uh-huh,” I respond absently, my gaze drifting to the bustling street outside the café window.

“You don’t sound excited about it,” Zoe prods in the only way she knows how and I’m impressed she didn’t call and leave me voice messages daily to figure out where I was and if I had come to my senses. “What’s bothering you, Lil?”

I sigh, my shoulders sagging slightly. “The next one is Derek.”

“Oh, him,” she mumbles, and I can practically see her nose wrinkling in distaste.

Just as I’m about to respond, the café door swings open, and my heart skips a beat. Ethan strides in. His eyes meet mine, and a slow, crooked smile spreads across his face. I feel my own lips curving upwards in response, a warmth blooming in my chest.

“Hey, Zo, I gotta go,” I say hurriedly, my eyes never leaving Ethan’s. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Wait, is that—” Zoe begins, but I’ve already ended the call, my phone forgotten on the table as Ethan approaches.

---