I roll my suitcase around him and open the door.
“Christ, you New Yorkers,” Dusty mutters. She points a finger at me. “Consider this the last favor I do you.”
“Dusty Callahan?” Wesley barks behind me. “You calledher?”
“Wes, I’ve been up for hours. I’ve got a long flight, please don’t start with me.”
“Want me to deck him?” Dusty offers.
“No. Then I’d have to tell our parents I let a girl hit him.”
“Your brother. Explains a lot.”
Wes reaches for my suitcase, ignoring the blonde. “Rose, I’ll take you to the airport.”
“The lady said no,” Dusty growls.
“Like you’ve got any manners,” he bites back.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll call you from the airport.”
“If you get there,” he mutters, still glaring at Dusty.
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll be in the car.”
10:30 a.m.
Rose:Heading to airport.
Willow:Really?
Rose:Why wouldn’t I be?
Willow:Just thought there’d be some last-minute proclamation of love or something.
I laugh, and Dusty glances over at me from behind the wheel.
Rose:No. I’m coming home.
Willow:Airport. There’s going to be an airport chase. Someone’s going to get arrested.
Rose:Wanna get dinner later?
Willow:Check your voicemail before you board. You don’t want that Ross and Rachel thing where she almost doesn’t get off the plane.
I roll my eyes.
Rose:I’m with Dusty. I’ve got to go.
Willow:Who’s Dusty? Is he cute?
“Thanks for coming,” I say to the not-so-intimidating blonde.
She keeps her eyes on the road. “Only gave you my number to piss off the boys. Didn’t think you’d actually use it.”
I grin. “Yet here you are.”
She cocks her head. “Here I am.”
