People could not be trusted. They always let you down, and Will Sinclair had already proven that to her, hadn’t he?
Which meant the only future that included him was the next twenty-nine hours.
And that was twenty-nine hours if she didn’t use the bathroom.
She was determined to hold it.
Chapter 2
“This is your car?”
As Will watched Spencer’s little sister struggle to drag the ridiculously oversized pink suitcase into the parking lot, he thought that after this trip, his debt to his best friend might finally be paid.
He then immediately noted that he could spend the rest of his life doing Spencer favors, and it wouldn’t even come close.
“This is it.” He pushed himself up off of the SUV. “She’ll get us where we need to go.”
Lauren glared at him. He hadn’t seen her in a lot of years, but in that time, she had not only grown up, she had also apparently planted a grudge against him. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but decided to put it in the “not my problem” thought box.
It was going to be an icy week, both inside and outside the car.
“I got you coffee.” He hoped it would be a peace offering.
“I don’t drink coffee,” she said flatly.
“That’s not what Spence said.” He opened the car door and grabbed the coffee from the cup holder.
She looked away.
“He said you like the, uh—” he looked at the side of the cup—"white chocolate mocha?”
She kicked at something on the ground. “Thanks.” It might’ve actually pained her to say that.
“Waiting on you.” He opened the back door for her. “Here, I can grab that…”
“I got it.”
Right. She had it.
She was probably one of those women who was insulted when a man tried to hold the door open for her. It was impossible to know how to act these days. He’d been taught to be a gentleman, but now that was insulting. And the last thing he wanted to do was insult a beautiful woman.
And yeah. Lauren was beautiful.
Not pretentious-beautiful though, the kind of beautiful that was understated. Very little makeup. Long, brunette hair pulled up in a messy bun. She wore leggings and a Rainbow Brite T-shirt that hugged her curves, which he took barely a breath to appreciate.
So, Spencer’s little sister. . . not so little anymore.
A years’ old promise to his best friend interrupted his thoughts. He had no intention of breaking it, either—no matter how curious he was about Lauren.
He slid in behind the steering wheel and watched her heave her suitcase into the back, along with a computer case and another bag. She pulled down the hatch and paused outside—in the side mirror he saw her put her hand to her head as if to say, ‘what am I doing?!’—and then she opened the passenger door and buckled herself in. She set her purse on her lap and fished out a piece of paper.
“I mapped out the fastest way from here to Chicago. If we take minimal stops and take turns driving, we can probably make it in three days. I also made a list of several hotels along the way and called to confirm that they had two rooms available so we don’t, you know, have to share.”
She said it like the thought disgusted her. He frowned.
She opened the GPS on her phone and started clicking around. “We can use my phone for GPS if you want, but I do have an audio book and three podcasts I’m planning to listen to, so would it be better if I plugged the details into yours?” She glanced up at him and her expression changed. “What?”
Start tap-dancing, buddy.
“Did your brother tell you anything about this trip?”
“He told me you were driving back to Illinois for Christmas, and I could get a ride with you.”
“Yes. . .” he said, slowly, “that’s true. . .” He paused. “But I’ve already got a route planned.”
She shifted in her seat to turn toward him. “Really.”
“Yes. It’s going to take seven days.”
Her face looked like when the dentist tells you that you have three cavities and open up because they all need to be drilled immediately.
“Seven days?” She practically shrieked. “What? Why?”
He really didn’t want to get into the details about why he was taking this trip—especially not with someone so put-off by his being in her orbit. It wouldn’t have changed her mind or her attitude about him, anyway. Time was, he would’ve used his personal pain as a way to manipulate the affection of a woman, but he’d changed. He wasn’t that guy.