Page 24 of False Start

I had nothing against Gavin. He’d worked at the bakery for three years and been on the team just as long. He was…fine.

“Why Gavin?” Trent’s face furrowed into a confusion that matched my own. “I can help you out while Kit’s out of town.”

I raised an eyebrow. Apparently, Derek was hoisting this plan on both of us.

“Well, if you two are going on a car rally, I needed to come up with a backup plan on the fly.”

“Kit, you can’t compete in the rally alone. Trent, you’re bored as hell. There’s no kickball this week, and I won’t be much fun, so why don’t you get out of town for a couple of days? Compete with Kit?”

“Because we hate each other.” I folded my arms over my chest.

“You don’t mean that,” Derek and Trent said simultaneously.

“I hate how alike you both are,” I amended.

“Which is why this’ll work.” Derek’s voice pitched up optimistically.

“I actually wouldn’t mind tagging along,” Trent said with a shrug.

I blew out a breath and turned away from the bed, pacing a few steps to the door before raking my hand through my hair.

“You want to go,” Derek prodded. “You’ve been looking forward to it for a year. Don’t tell me you want to cancel so you can sit at the hospital with me.”

He had a point. “I would do it.”

“I know you would.” Derek’s voice sounded bone tired. “I know, but I don’t want you to. This trip was for you, Kit. And whether I’m in the passenger seat or Trent or some rando you find off the Internet, you need to go.”

“I’m really not a bad co-pilot,” Trent offered.

I stared down at the closed hospital door, eyes tracing the fire exit map and then tilting my head back with a sigh. “Can you even drive a manual?”

“I can learn.”

NINE

TRENT

How to Drivea Manual Transmission

I poked out the letters onto my TV remote, settling on a cheery looking video thumbnail with “Never driven a manual transmission? No Problem!” plastered over a happy grandpa-looking figure.

“Welcome back to Antique Rides! Don’t forget to like and subscribe. Today, we’re going to learn the easy way to drive a manual transmission.”

I settled into my couch, eyelids heavy as the clock on the wall hit one A.M. I only had four more hours until Kit would knock on my door, and even sleep deprived and exhausted, I didn’t want to look like a total ass.

I woke up four hours later to angry banging from the direction of the front door. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I glanced at the TV to find that the manual transmission video had moved onto antique car auctions. Fuck.

“If you don’t answer this in one minute, I’m leaving without you!” Kit called through the oak panel.

I raced to the door, pulling it open to find her dressed in a threadbare flannel shirt over a baggy t-shirt and a pair of jeanshorts, and a frown plastered on her face. Not a welcoming start to our joint adventure.

“What the hell, Trent? I said five A.M. It’s…” She pushed back the sleeve of her shirt. “Five fifteen. We’re not going to make the starting line on time if you don’t hurry.”

“Two seconds,” I said. A complete lie. I’d planned to watch the video andthenpack. Falling asleep on the couch meant neither of those things got done. “Just wait here while I grab my things.”

I gestured to the entryway, but she shut the door behind her and followed me down the hallway, eyes surveying the apartment. “Where are your bags?”

“One second.” I held up a finger, stopping her before she barged into my room and saw a mess, for sure. No luggage, absolutely.

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