Page 50 of Where Roads Lead

She was hyper and chaotic and talked as if she were competing for some type of medal for cramming as many words as possible into what could’ve been a quiet moment.

And she was only here temporarily.

“Are you attracted to me?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Where the fuck did that come from?

“I think you’re attractive,” she said, making my breath hitch. Until she added. “But anyone would.”

“What?” I asked, forcing myself to focus on driving rather than hyper-analyzing every aspect of her body language.

“Yeah,” she drawled. “You’re the type of attractive that’s not really open to interpretation. You just are.”

My mouth went dry. I felt like some type of teenager, getting hit on by his crush for the first time in his life.

“But,” she added, “it doesn’t mean I want to date you or anything. So don’t get scared.”

Why doesn’t she want to date me?

I shook my head against the intrusive thought.

Probably for all the reasons I wouldn’t want to date her.

I wanted to slam my head against the wheel for acting like such an idiot.

“I’m not scared,” I told her, terrified only of whatever foreign feeling was rooting itself in my stomach.

“Great.” She beamed. “Because I really do think we could be great friends. We have that grumpy sunshine type of sitcom dynamic that might balance each other out.”

“Grumpy sunshine?” I asked, dumbfounded. “What the hell is that? Do I even want to ask?

She waved me off. “It’s romance book terminology. Because people like to read about a grumpy character falling in love with a sunshiny one. The contrast is usually funny.”

“Romance?” I raised a brow.

“Yeah, but as we just cleared up, that doesn’t apply here. And it’s just as interesting a dynamic when it’s platonic. Like, uh—” She paused, searching for an answer before snapping her fingers in delight. “Like Shrek and Donkey!”

“You think we’re Shrek and Donkey?” I felt my face contort into something between disgust and confusion.

“Definitely.” She nodded. “I’m annoying, and you’re a cynical loner.”

“Right,” I told her, wishing desperately that we were already at our destination and out of the stifling tension of this truck.

Elsie, apparently, had no such qualms.

“Hey, look at us, proving that men and women can be friends without attraction infiltrating the situation!” She reached her hand across the armrest to offer me a high five. “Go us!”

I begrudgingly hit my palm against hers and then cursed myself for how the feeling in my stomach tightened when her hand connected with mine.

“Yup,” I told her, tightening my grip back on the wheel where it belonged. “Go us.”

Chapter Fourteen

Elsie

Ihad thought Will was a smart guy, capable of common sense and simple reasoning. Apparently, I was wrong.

“What do you think you’re doing?”