"Well." He thought quick. "All I have left is one more place, but it seems really out of reach now."
"Anything is good at this point." She shrugged. "What do you think?"
"I think there's a place in Nag's Head, about four hours from here, where Quinn and I went on a college trip once. She really loved it there, so it's not so out of the question that she might have made the trip."
"Well…" she hedged. "I guess we don't have any better options."
They didn't. And what was more, by the end of their trip to Nag's Head, he was going to see that she changed her tune and made up with her sister. By the end of this weekend, she was going to learn to take risks in love and in life.
Best of all, he knew exactly how he was going to do it.
The whole way to North Carolina, Zoe hardly knew what to say.
It had been a mistake, what had happened between them last night. But even now, thinking of the hot weight of his body pressed against her, she couldn’t bring herself to feel like it had been wrong.
Now, every time Ian tried to make small talk or said anything at all, she found herself jumping in surprise and letting out little murmurs of understanding before falling silent again.
About an hour into the trip, though, he turned to her and said, “What are you thinking?”
She knew she couldn’t lie anymore. She couldn’t spend another four hours surrounded by his energy and all the reminders of what they’d done the night before without coming out and saying it. “Last night was a mistake.” Though she rushed out the words, they were met with silence.
“Look,” she pressed on. “I hope you understand. It’s just that I don’t know what came over me.”
More silence stretched between them, punctuated by the lack of radio. She laced her fingers in her lap, waiting for him to say something—anything—but nothing came.
“I’m sure I disappointed you, but—”
“You’ve got to think an awful lot of yourself to think the idea of you never sleeping with me again is a disappointment.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m just saying. Little conceited, don’t you think?”
“No actually. I thought I was being nice and—”
“And turning me down even though you don’t mean it?” he challenged.
“I most certainly do mean it.”
Another pause punctured the air, and she huffed out a sigh. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Nope.” The word sounded with a little pop.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t have to. You already know you’re wrong.”
Fat drops of rain started plopping onto the windshield, and he flicked the wipers on before glancing at her.
“What do you mean?” she demanded.
“You already know exactly what I mean. I know you’re just trying to talk yourself out of something you want because that’s how you stay in your safe little bubble.”
“My bubble, is it?” She raised her eyebrows, and he nodded.
“Exactly. You’re scared of how much you want me, and now you’re going to try to lie to me in order to get away with hiding.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” she said then turned to face the view as a barrage of rain pelted the window.