Page 66 of Side Trip

“In the small green case. Give me a sec.” She got out of the car and paced a short distance away. She needed to call Mark. His texts had grown incessant throughout the evening and she’d sent his calls directly to voice mail. She’d ignored them because, shamefully, she didn’t want to miss Dylan’s performance.

She also wasn’t ready to face the music streaming through her head. Thoughts about Mark and her future with him in New York played like dissonant chords, leaving her conflicted. The ring on her finger was too big. Their May wedding was coming up too fast. And his proposal, the day after her graduation, had been too soon. She was even having second thoughts about moving to Manhattan.

Then there was Dylan. For an instant today, as she’d watched the couple on the shore, she’d desired to be that woman. Easygoing and, by all appearances, without worry. Untainted by a past that couldn’t be undone. But it wasn’t Mark she imagined beside her. It was Dylan. In a few short days, he’d become the tide pulling her in his direction. He was sunlight drenching her skin, warming her. She wanted to ride that wave and bask in his glow. But where did that leave Mark? And who was she to think Dylan wanted anything more than their interim friendship? How presumptuous of her.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. She knew that she had to talk to Mark about their engagement, but not yet. She had to sort through her thoughts and determine exactly what she was feeling. With every mile, New York drew closer and her feet colder. She could simply be nervous about the big changes in her life. For now, though, she wanted to hear Mark’s voice and ease his worry. Hers, too.

The full moon dangled high in the sky. It cast enough gray light for her to see the dirt road once her eyes adjusted. She launched her phone and the screen glowed bright, attracting every bug within five feet. They hit her arms, buzzed in front of her face, zipped by her ears. She shivered. Nasty.

She brought up Mark’s number, tapped the phone icon, and waited. Gravel crunched and Dylan came up beside her. Joy looked at the screen, wondering why the call wasn’t going through. “Shoot.”

“Everything okay?”

She shook her head. “No signal.”

“Trying to reach Mark?”

She nodded. Damn. She should have called before they’d left the bar. Now she’d have to come up with another excuse as to why she hadn’t answered. Yet another lie.

“We can still find a hotel for the night. You can call from there.”

She shook her head. As terrible as she felt about avoiding Mark, she had no desire to get back on the highway and drive another hour or so. She’d been awake for over eighteen hours and hadn’t slept soundly last night. She was exhausted.

“Find the bug spray?” She slid her phone into her back pocket.

Dylan showed her the can. “Put your arms out.”

She did. He sprayed her arms, legs, and entire front side.

“Turn around,” he murmured. His voice skittered across her skin. She shivered and turned around, grateful for the dark. He couldn’t see how affected she was just from his whispered instruction.

Dylan sprayed her back and head. “Close your eyes.”

She heard him come around to stand in front of her and the spray can go off, but she didn’t feel anything. She looked up at him.

He raised a hand, moist with repellent. “Eyes closed,” he said, and gently wiped the Bug Off on her forehead, nose, cheeks, ears, and neck, dipping below the collar of her tee. His fingers slowed, lingered, and when her breath hitched, were gone. Her eyes shot up to his. He looked at her with an expression difficult to read in the dark.

“What?” she asked tentatively.

“You skinny-dipped today.”

“OMG!” She dropped her face in her hands. She’d hoped he wouldn’t bring it up.

“You threw your bathing suit at me.”

Her entire body flamed. “I knoooow. I’m sorry,” she said, mortified.

“That was ...” He chuckled and slowly shook his head. “Wild.”

She lowered her arms. “It was stupid.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It was fun. Shocking,” he said, eyes going wide. “But fun.”

Joy groaned.

“Warn me next time?”

“There won’t be a next time,” she said, disgruntled.

---