The Road That Leads to Us (Us 1)
Page 7
“Well,” I slid the barstool back and kicked my feet up on the counter, “I wanted to go on a road trip and my so-called friends bailed. Assholes.” I muttered the last part under my breath.
He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because you’re such a delight to hang out with twenty-four-seven.”
I stuck my now blue tongue out at him.
Sobering, he walked around and sat on the empty barstool beside me. “Why don’t we go on a road trip?”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Me and you?”
“Sure, why not?” He shrugged, crunching down on his lollipop and chewing the candy. “I mean, we’re friends, I just finished restoring my Mustang, and getting out of here for a little while wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.”
“Would your dad let you take off work for that long? My plan was to head south and then west all the way to California to visit Liam,” I said, referring to my cousin who was only a few months older than me and like a brother, “and then come back up the northern route.”
“My dad won’t care.” Dean shrugged, tossing the lollipop stick in the direction of the trashcan. It hit the edge and bounced off. Dean never had much aim. It was a good thing he stuck to fixing cars and playing music. I didn’t think he went anywhere without his guitar.
Excitement flooded my body, nearly bubbling over.
“Are you sure?” I asked him one last time.
“Positive.”
“We’re really going to do this?”
He nodded.
“Thank you!” I squealed, nearly falling to the floor in my haste to hug him.
“Whoa,” he grunted in surprise when my body collided into his. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me back.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I said a thousand more times before smacking a kiss against his stubbled cheek. “This is going to be epic.”
Before he could respond, I was out the door and down the steps.
I had a road trip to pack for.
Dean
The words had come out of my mouth before I even knew what I was saying.
Willow had that kind of effect on people…or maybe it was just me she effected that way.
There was something about her that had always drawn me in and made me want to protect her.
Although, Willow rarely needed protecting.
She was the take-charge kind of girl.
But when she explained about college, and then her failed road trip, I’d been willing to do anything to make her happy.
And that’s when I got a case of verbal diarrhea and said, “Why don’t we go on a road trip?”
I didn’t know what possessed me to say the words—other than the fact that this was Willow.
No one understood me quite the same way Willow did, and vice versa.
I knew, deep down, that she needed this trip, and that’s why I suggested we go together before I even thought things through.
I think I might’ve needed this trip too.