“Caught you drooling,” Finn teases, cracking open the can with a hiss.
I wipe my mouth automatically, then freeze when I see his shit-eating grin.
“Ha-ha.”Idiot.
He chuckles and drops onto the bench across from me, stretching his long legs out under the table, brushing mine. Electricity flares in my body. Or annoyance.Maybe both.
I glance out the window and notice that the sky is already fading toward evening again, soft pinks brushing the horizon, telling me I must’ve been out longer than I thought, which explains why the pain is even harsher than usual.
I haven’t had any meds in hours. The urge to grab my pills from my bunk claws at me, but I don’t move, not with Finn here. I won’t let him see me desperate. I’d rather chew glass.
So I grit my teeth and stay still, pretending the pain isn’t there and ignoring every nerve that’s begging to be numbed.
“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out rough, but that’s a good thing because I forgot to deepen it.
Finn raises an eyebrow. “Here, as in your sacred nap zone?”
“No. Here, as inmy bus. Don’t you usually roll in one of those high-end team buses? Beds, espresso machines, TVs bigger than Dane’s ego…”
God, I miss those things. Those buses made hours on the road feel like spa days. This rust bucket couldn’t cushion a sneeze.
Finn shrugs, then takes a slow sip from his can. “Figured a twenty-six-hour drive was the perfect time to catch up with my best friend. Share the wheel, swap stories. Because apparently, his little cousin prefers passing out at the table to pulling his weight.”
He’s been driving with us from the start?
Then again, I can’t even remember hitting the road.
“Right.” I shift in my seat.God, I hope I didn’t snore.
Finn watches me over the rim of his drink. “Dane and I have got a lot to talk about, you know. Seven years is a long time. Whole lives can happen in that span.”
There’s something about the way he says it, like it’s too pointed with a gleam in his eyes.
Shit. Dane wouldn’t have told him.
He wouldn’t.
Right?
I keep my face neutral. “That so?”
“Mm-hmm.” He leans back, one arm slung across the seat. “People change. Grow up. Get faster. Bolder.”
“Or older,” I mutter.
He laughs, completely unbothered by the dig, but he doesn’t stop watching me. Doesn’t even blink. I toy with the edge of the notebook, unsure whether he’s just being his usual smug self or is fishing.
“So,Allen.” Finn takes another sip, eyes still pinned on me. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Looking to poach secrets from the privateers?”
He just chuckles. “You into The Offspring?”
“What? Why?”
He tilts his head and gestures with the hand holding the can, pointing it directly at my chest. My gaze follows, and heat floods my face with a punch.Shit.
I’m wearing a faded gray Offspring shirt. No binder. No bra. Just soft cotton and a whole lot ofOh my God. The graphic is stretched in ways I really didn’t think about when I threw it on last night.
