Page 24 of From Now On

“No problem at all,” he replies easily. “I’m glad you’re coming with us. Should be a fun week, but I wasn’t totally thrilled about the fifth-wheeling part. It can be…a lot.”

I nod. “Trust me, I know.”

Hunter gifts me with a full grin, and I almost have a heart attack. “Yeah, right. I’m sure you do.” He glances at the suitcase standing next to a pair of Harlow’s sneakers. “This your bag?”

“Yeah. I just need to grab my backpack from my room, and then I’m ready to go.”

“No rush. I’ll stick this in the car. Come out whenever you’re all set. Unless you need help carrying anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

He nods, then bends over to grab the handle of my suitcase. The fabric of his pants stretches tight across his ass, and my mouth immediately goes dry. An entire flock of butterflies takes flight in my stomach.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I mean, Ido. I’ve never been suave around guys—let alone devastatingly attractive ones.

Also, I just got out of a long-term relationship that wasn’t exactlysizzling.

It’s been years since I kissed a guy other than Ben, let alone done anything else.

I’m wanting a distraction from the breakup.

And…it’sHunter Morgan.

I know—even though I’m going to lie to myself for the next nine hours out of sheer self-preservation—that’s the main reason I’m a human inferno right now.

“Be right there,” I say, then hustle down the hallway.

A few seconds later, I hear the front door shut.

After grabbing my backpack, I pee, pull on my jacket, take five deep breaths, and then head outside. I double-check the front door is locked before heading for the green SUV parked along the curb.

“Have a nice break, Eve!” Mr. Goodman calls from his front yard. Our neighbor is outdoors mulching his front flowerbeds.

“Thank you,” I respond, waving before opening the passenger-side door.

The interior of Hunter’s car is very clean. I imagine the messy, sweaty jock stereotype exists for some reason, but Hunter appears to be the exception.

Underneath the lingering aroma of pleather, all my nose can detect is a subtle masculine scent. I inhale deeply a few times, trying to catch a stronger whiff. No luck, which is disappointing, although I also appreciate that he’s not one of those guys whosmells like he bathed in cologne, since it’s not really warm enough to have the window open.

“All set?” he asks, shifting the car into drive.

I nod, buckling in. “All set.”

I glance in the rearview mirror as he pulls away from the curb. My home at Holt is out of sight in seconds, along with my plan for spending break solo.

This is a new chapter, I tell myself. College isn’t over yet.

I turn my head, but the ache in my awkwardly bent neck doesn’t improve at all. I reach back to rub the sore muscle, and bang my elbow on the car door. Every nerve ending in my right arm protests.

It doesn’t feel like we’re moving. I open my eyes, expecting to see cars on the road ahead, same as before I started dozing.

But there’s dirt and grass and guardrail, and past it—the Pacific.

I sit up straight, a burst of adrenaline bolting through my system. Glance at Hunter, who’s turning off the car and picking up his phone. I guess the lack of movement is what woke me up.

“Uh, what—what’s going on?” Remarkably, my voice sounds fairly normal. Like I wake up on the side of the highway regularly.

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