Right?
She dropped him off at a gas station in the middle of the night. He stepped inside and bought some snacks and coffee. Now he needed another ride. He couldn’t stay at the gas station until morning.
Chapter Two
Benson
New York City
The snow came down in thick, lazy flakes, blurring the edges of the highway like someone had smudged the world with a cold, white thumb. Benson had the heat cranked and one hand on the wheel, the other nursing a lukewarm gas station coffee. The radio was just static and he had long given up trying tofind a signal. He didn’t mind the silence. Hauling toys to Los Angeles in a bright red truck was better than the icy drama of his Michigan family during the Christmas holidays.
He almost didn’t see the frozen hitchhiker at first, his breath misting in the frigid air, barely visible against the falling snow. Just a shape on the shoulder, bundled in a too-thin jacket, thumb out like he believed someone would actually stop in this mess. Benson slowed, more out of instinct than decision. The truck rumbled to a halt a few feet ahead of the hitchhiker and he lowered the passenger side window a few inches, enough to communicate.
The snow-covered hitchhiker jogged up, breath puffing in the cold. He leaned toward the window, grinning like this was the best thing that had happened to him all day. “You serious?”
Benson shrugged. “Door’s unlocked.” He manually switched the cab light on to see the young man better. He had no idea his age, but he sounded young.
The hitchhiker yanked it open and climbed in, stomping snow off his boots. “Man, I thought I was going to freeze out there. You’re a lifesaver.”
Benson said nothing as he watched the hitchhiker push back his navy hoodie. The poor guy looked like he’d been through something—his clothes were damp, and there was a tiredness in the way he moved that tugged at Benson’s chest. Still, there was no denying how striking he was. Tousled, wavy brown hair fell over his forehead in a way that looked almost deliberate, like he’d just stepped out of a photograph. His sharp, ice-blue eyes caught the overhead light and held it, framed by dark brows that gave him a kind of quiet intensity. There was a flush on his pale cheeks, maybe from the cold, and a scatter of freckles across his nose that made him look younger than he probably was. Benson felt a flicker of something he didn’t wantto name, but maybe curiosity. Or interest. He cleared his throat, trying to shake it off, and eased the truck back onto the road.
“I’m Kyle, by the way,” he said, peeling off his wet gloves. “Appreciate the ride. Where you headed?”
“West,” Benson said.
Kyle laughed. “Mysterious. I like it. I’m going to California. Got a cousin out there with a couch. Figured I’d try something new, you know?”
Benson nodded, eyes on the road. “Sounds interesting.”
“You from around here?”
“No. And my name is Benson.”
“I’m from the city. Things didn’t work out for me, so I thought it was a good time to start my dream.”
“Dreams are great, but do people ever accomplish their goals?”
Kyle whistled. “Of course they do. All this snow and open road. You on some kind of road trip?”
“Something like that.”
Kyle didn’t seem to mind the lack of detail. He talked like someone who had had no one to talk to in a while.
Benson didn’t interrupt. He liked the sound of someone else’s life for a change. It made the miles go faster.
“You ever been to California?” Kyle asked after a while.
Benson nodded. “Yes.”
“I can’t wait. Sun, beaches, weird people. It’s got a vibe.”
Benson smirked. “That so?”
“Totally. I mean, I’ve never been, but that’s what everyone says.”
Kyle grinned again, and Benson almost smiled back. Almost.
The snow kept falling, thick and steady, but the road didn’t feel quite so lonely anymore. The cab of the big red truck was warm, filled with the scent of pine-scented air freshener andthe faint sweetness of peppermint from a half-eaten candy cane stuck in the cupholder. Behind them, the truck bed was packed tight with Christmas presents wrapped in shiny paper and bows, all headed from New York to California and stops in between. But Benson barely noticed the cargo now. His eyes kept drifting to the kid beside him.
