Page 53 of False Start

“I’m heading to bed,” Ashley announced, draining her glass and pushing it across the bar. “I’d suggest you all do the same so you can actually take off on time and make the check-in.”

The college friends said good night and followed her out the door, leaving Trent and me on our own.

“See.” Trent grinned. “You were worrying for nothing.”

“I wasn’t worrying.” I just ate about a dozen antacids on the way to the check-in. No big deal.

He hunched over, shaking his leg, fingers tapping the bar top and eyes flitting to his watch.

“Oh, Texas.” His voice pitched into an annoying falsetto. “I can’t believe you lost your pants around the dinosaur. You made us late!”

“I don’t sound like that.” I rolled my eyes.

“We’re never going to make it!” He gripped his chest, fluttering his other hand.

“I didn’t even say that.” I stifled a laugh.

“It’s what you would have said if you weren’t so nervous you couldn’t speak. We were fine. You worry too much.”

“As opposed to not worrying at all?”

He laughed. “Do you want a drink?”

I glanced around the bar and shrugged. “Sure, one before bed.”

Trent tapped his knuckles on the bar top with a smile, summoning over the surly bartender. I retreated to a booth, passing over two that were more duct tape than vinyl before sliding into the third.

I should have turned down the drink. Only two days in, and fatigue had set in. But I was also having fun. A surprising amount of fun. Sure, not as much fun as I would have had with Derek, but Trent turned out to be a decent teammate. His preoccupation with winning might be annoying, but he was a damn good navigator and not a bad conversationalist in a vacuum.

He set my drink in front of me, slipping into the booth beside me.

“What’s this?” I picked up the brown liquid with a cherry floating on the bottom.

“A nightcap.”

I sniffed the liquid. “An old-fashioned?”

“Derek mentioned you liked them.”

An involuntary sigh escaped my lips. It was just like Trent to pull a lovely gesture out of nowhere. “Are you grilling Derek for ways to get into my good graces?”

He ducked his head, but didn’t answer.

I took a sip. The sweet bourbon warmed my throat, and I eased my back against the wall, propping my knee up between us, taking back some of the space he man-spread into. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He tented his fingers over his glass. Water, by the look of it. A goofy smile spread across his face.

“What’s that smile about?” I asked, bracing the glass between my palms.

He swiveled his head, green eyes sliding down my face. “I’m just having a great time. A fantastic time.” His voice mixed abalance of teasing and sincerity that took me off guard. “Maybe even a great time with a friend.”

He drawled out the last word, his fingers wrapping around the ends of my hair and sending a shiver up my spine.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I said with none of the conviction I had on the first day of the rally. “I have plenty of friends already.”

The edge of his lips tipped up. “One?”

“And counting.” I fished the cherry out of my glass, popping it in my mouth.

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