Why did I agree to this again?
“You’re getting pale,” Ingrid warns, low and serious. “Jill always says that when nauseous, it helps to focus on something close by.”
Close by?
Like the ground?
Oh, wait. That’s not even remotely close to us.
So, I turn.
And I stare at the weathered white rocks on the cliffside.
Funny how something so ordinary can become the thing that keeps you from hurling your guts.
“Do you remember that time we did the Ferris wheel?” Cash asks Ingrid.
“One of the only times Wilder wasn’t our third wheel,” she replies and my eye literally twitches.
I’m so sick of Cash turning every mile into a memory I wasn’t a part of.
I’ve had to hear it since Oklahoma.
And I haven’t missed the way he keeps looking at her.
At least when Ingrid and Cash were dating, I kept my distance.
Yeah, I picked fights with her to get her attention, but I never made it uncomfortable.
Well, not this uncomfortable anyway.
“Hey Cash?” I smirk as I turn to face him. “Remember that time we walked in on you jerking off to a video?”
Several heads in the cable car turn our way.
Cash’s face reddens. “Yeah.”
“Or the time we were condom shopping in a gas station, and someone thought we were lovers?”
“You’re talking so loud,” Ingrid whisper-yells.
“Am I?” I ask, my voice cracking at the end. “I thought we were all sharing tales of how much fun we’ve had together over the years.”
“Why do you always have to make everything so ridiculously awkward?” Cash groans.
I run a hand over my face as Ingrid grabs my arm and yanks me to the other side of the cable car.
Which, for the record, is only like three feet away from Cash.
“What is going on?” she asks me.
Cash’s stupid eyes keep glancing over toward us.
“I know that asshole is still in love with you and I’m sick of him making it so damn obvious,” I murmur.
Ingrid’s eyes flick to the floor of the cable car. Not a good sign.
“So, what if he is?”
