The van was not therugged, mud-splattered pickup I expected.It was sleek, glossy black, with gold rays painted across the side like a rolling advertisement for Tristan Graham, Successful Adult.
“Wow,” I said, circling it.“I thought we’d be road-tripping in a beat-up farm truck.This looks like you kidnapped a tour bus.”
“Sorry it’s not a limo.”His grin was just as cocky as it had been at seventeen.
“Are you kidding?This is perfect.Probably has more legroom than economy seating.”
“And zero chance of a crying toddler behind you kicking the seat for two hours.”He popped open the back doors, slid in the dolly, and reached for my heavy carry-on.
I hesitated for a heartbeat.My ex used to roll his eyes when I struggled with groceries and said I should not expect help.Funny how that one sentence stayed lodged under the ribs for years.
Taking a breath and knowing Tristan wasn’t Gregory, I relaxed the grip on my suitcase.“Thanks.Purse is all I need.”
“Good,” he said, shutting the door with a satisfying thud.“Because once you’re in, there’s no getting out.All aboard.”
I placed one foot on the running board.“Okay, but we need rules.”
His brows shot up.“Rules?”
“Yes.A contract.Verbal, binding, legally enforceable.”I ticked them off on my fingers.“One: no murder.Two: no detours to sketchy motels.Three: you will get me to my best friend in Victoria alive.”
I heard it as soon as I said it—best friend.Not past tense.Not qualified.The wrong word in the wrong spot.My chest tightened, but Tristan only blinked once, like a quick reset before the easy version of him slid back into place.
“My terms,” he said, leaning an elbow on the door, “are no hogging the playlist, no complaining about my driving, and you must laugh at least once at my jokes.Even the bad ones.”
Mocking his feeble demands, I nodded.“Fine,” I said, climbing in.“But you’d better have coffee planned into this itinerary or I’ll declare breach of contract.”
“First stop’s Ridge Heights,” he said, starting the engine.“Best cappuccino west of Red Deer at the Coffee Loft.You’ll survive.”
“Coffee Loft?”
“Only the best coffee shop around.I promise.”A wink I wasn’t sure was necessarily meant for me came my way.
I buckled up, heart pounding with the unfamiliar push of stepping outside my comfort zone.While desperately trying not to look like I was actually excited.Because honestly, when was the last time I did something spur of the moment?
We eased out of the airport loop and onto the highway, the silence stretching long enough for him to toss me a sidelong glance.
“So.Catch me up.What’s your life story?”
“Well, that’s not awkward at all.”
“Hey, I just offered you a cross-province ride.Least you can do is entertain me.”
I scrunched my nose.“Fine.I’ve upgraded to an ER nurse and I live in Athabasca.I drink way too much coffee, like some days, I swear I can hear colours.That’s the highlight reel.”Most of the time, the coffee was ice cold, but never an iced coffee, and it went down in gulps between curtains and patients.
He whistled low.“ER nurse, huh?Not surprised.You were always terrifyingly good at science.I figured you’d end up saving lives somehow.”
“Terrifyingly?”I arched an eyebrow.
“Yeah.You used to correct Mr.Harris in Bio 20.You were the only fifteen-year-old who’d ever made a grown man question mitosis.”
I groaned.“That was one time.”
He grinned.“Still.Called it.I knew it back then.”
I tried to hide my smile by staring out the window.Deep down a tiny, annoying warmth bloomed in my chest.
* * *
