Page 4 of Risk It All

“That would be awesome.Otherwise I was going to have to crash with Alexander and Eden.”

“Aren’t they newlyweds?”he asks and I nod, wincing as I think about what a nightmare it’s going to be to stay with him for a night or two.

I love my brother and his wife, but of the two of them, Alexander is the more uptight of the two.His wife, Eden, helps to make him more laid back but I’m not thrilled to spend time with the newlyweds.The last time that I saw them, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off of each other.

“Cool, then we’ll wait until next week before we start looking for apartments or making any decisions.”

I nod, shoving a bite of cereal into my mouth as I lean back against the countertop and watch him look through the cabinets for something to eat.

“Is that all of the food we have?”he finally asks and I give him a cocky grin.

He curses under his breath before he looks at his watch.

“Don’t you have a show tonight?”

“Yeah, in an hour and a half.”

“Perfect.Let’s go get something to eat and then I’ll catch your show before I come home and pass out.”

I finish off my cereal, rinsing out the bowl before I grab my notepad, cell phone, and keys and follow him out the door.

CHAPTER3

Emerson

Sunday morning comes fasterthan I wanted it to.Layla helped me carry my two bags down to my car and then we hugged each other for a solid five minutes.I had laughed, hugging her tighter as we both reminded each other that it was only for a few days.

It’s just been a while since we’ve gone more than a day or two without seeing each other.I know that we’ll be texting and talking on the phone all week.I made Layla promise to check in with me every twelve hours to make sure that her friend hadn’t murdered me.Layla is avoiding a deadline so I know that she’ll be looking for any excuse to be away from her laptop.

From the few text messages that we’ve sent, I have a feeling that this is going to be the road trip from hell.The guy can’t seem to stop calling me dude which is a huge pet peeve of mine.I had wanted to correct him so badly when he first called me that, but I was hoping that it was just a slip or some kind of mistake.

I pull onto North Soto Street and park outside of the apartment building that Anthony sent me last night when I checked that he would be ready by ten a.m.He had called me dude–– again –– but had assured me that he would be downstairs and waiting for me on time.

I have to circle the block twice before I can find a parking spot and I notice that there’s no one waiting out front.I pull into the spot, happy that I was able to find one right by the front door.I text him, letting him know that I’m in the navy blue station wagon out front.

My old Subaru Outback has already been gassed up and I’ve set my stuff on the right side of the trunk so that there’s room for his bags on the left.

When he still isn’t down a few minutes later, I grit my teeth and send him another message, growing even more annoyed.By quarter after ten, I’m seriously debating just driving off.I’d have to survive off of peanut butter sandwiches the whole way and sleep in my car but maybe it might just be worth it.

I’m checking the traffic, about to hit my blinker when a tired, disheveled looking man in his late twenties comes rushing out of the apartment building, dragging a black suitcase behind him.He looks around, spotting me in my station wagon, idling out front of the building.He looks confused for a minute and goes back to searching the streets and I shift into drive, thinking that I dodged a bullet.

I didn’t want to drive across country by myself but I really don’t want to drive across country with some man-child who can’t be on time to save his life.

I’m about to hit the gas and block thedude’snumber when that man runs over to my car and jumps in front of the bumper.

I frown, not in any mood to deal with this lunatic.

“Are you Emerson?”he shouts, his hands resting on the front of my car as he bends over the hood and meets my eyes.

I debate shaking my head.This guy is… not what I was expecting.

Even with wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and bloodshot eyes, he’s heart-stoppingly beautiful.His eyes are like sapphires, sparkling in the morning sunlight and framed in the thickest lashes.

Those eyes are locked on me and I stare back, debating if I should drive off or admit that I’m who he’s looking for.

His hair is dark brown, almost bordering on black, and is sticking up in every direction.I wonder if he just woke up.

He’s more muscular than I expected.I thought most comedians were either out of shape with beer bellies or super skinny and pale.This man is neither.

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