Page 42 of Tell Me No Lies

A voice carries through the speaker, welcoming us and asking for our order. Tate stares at me a second longer before turning to the lit-up board and ordering my overly sugary drink along with a plain black coffee for himself. We pull up to the window and he pays, dropping the change into the tip bucket before passing me my drink, taking his, and pulling away.

I'm not sure what to make of the interaction we just had, so I suck down some of my coffee, letting the cool creaminess soothe me. My eyes close as I let out a little sigh of bliss. I know it's stupid, but expensive coffee makes me happy. It's like getting a little treat because I'm about to have to go deal with some bullshit.

"Good?"

I let out a little sigh, opening my eyes and leaning his direction. "Fantastic."

He seems to relax a little, giving me a sharp nod. "I'm glad."

I continue drinking my coffee as we glide down the interstate, each mile marker bringing us closer to the gathering I have very conflicted feelings about. I want to help these women. I want to get them out of the life they’re living. I just don't want to have to live my worst nightmare to accomplish it.

But if I have to pretend to be dedicated to someone, I'm glad it's Tate. I know he won’t take advantage of it. Won't expect it or even enjoy it. If anything, Tate seems to loathe the idea. He seems happiest when I'm giving him shit and being a pain in the ass.

Hopefully we can get back to that soon.

I'm just reaching the bottom of my cup when Tate takes another exit, moving away from the highway once again.

I glance around, looking for the reason he might be stopping. "Is everything okay?"

"You said you’d have to pee if you drink coffee, so we’re stopping to pee." He pulls into one of the new, gigantic travel gas stations that are popping up everywhere. I've seen them advertised, but I've never been to one myself, so I’m not sure what to expect.

Tate parks in the closest spot to the huge store surrounded by rows of gas pumps. "Have you ever been here?"

"No." I peek through the windshield at the hordes of people coming and going. "It looks a little crazy."

He gives me half a smile. "No crazier than what we're about to do."

"Fair enough." I push open my door. "Let's go see what this place is all about."

Ten minutes later I'm regretting my choice to get out of the Jeep. "What in the heck did you get us into?" I scoot closer to Tate as we try to work our way through the crush of people zipping around in a search of everything from shredded beef sandwiches to caramel coated puffcorn. "Maybe I can just squat in the woods somewhere."

"It is a little wild in here, isn't it?" Tate hooks one arm around me, pulling me close as a giant bear of a man barrels past juggling an arm full of snacks. "Hopefully their bathroom is calmer than this."

He uses his height and width to clear a path, pulling me along with him. I'm relieved to see there's no line at the ladies, and I duck inside to do my business. Maneuvering the extra fabric of my bulky skirt to my waist without letting any of it touch a public toilet is a little more difficult than I expected, but eventually my bladder is empty, my clothes are back in place, my hands are washed, and I’m headed back out into the chaos. Tate is standing exactly where I left him, but now he's clutching a bright yellow bag in one hand. He holds his other hand out to me. "Let's get the fuck outta here."

"Don't have to tell me twice." I grab his outstretched palm, holding tight and sticking close as we push our way toward the exit. As soon as we’re outside, I take a deep breath. "I don't think I want to go there again."

Tate opens the passenger’s door of the Jeep and waits while I get in. As soon as I’m buckled, he drops the bag he's carrying into my lap. "I guess it's good I got this then."

He closes the door before I can respond, and as he walks to the other side, I peek into the bag. What I see inside makes my throat tight.

It also makes me laugh.

I tip the bag over, dumping the item out onto my lap as Tate climbs in. I hook one finger through the ring of the keychain and hold it up between us, grinning like a flipping idiot at the brightly colored beaver. "This is fantastic."

Tate’s chest puffs out the tiniest bit as he starts the engine. "It didn't seem like you had enough keychains, so I figured I’d get you one."

Another laugh jumps free, and I swing a slap at his shoulder. "Dick."

He flashes me a grin. "Careful, or I'll drag you back in that store."

I cringe, groaning at the memory. "No thanks. I'd rather pee somewhere with a hubcap hooked to the bathroom key than face another one of those places."

Tate’s grin holds as we pull back onto the highway. "I’ll remember you said that."

I drop my new keychain back into the bag since my keys—along with the rest of my purse—are actually back at Christian’s house. There was no reason to bring them, but now I'm regretting it. Because I would love to see the way my new addition looks surrounded by all the rest.

"When I first moved out on my own, I didn't have a lot of extra money. Keychains are cheap. Something I could get myself that wouldn't take up a lot of space in my studio apartment or eat up a bunch of my funds. I know it's kind of a dumb thing to collect, but they made me happy, so I just kept buying them." I chew my lower lip, thinking I should hold the rest back, but not really wanting to. "The ones hooked on my keys are actually only part of my collection. I have a ton more and I rotate through them depending on my mood."

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