Page 75 of Where Roads Lead

“It would’ve made more sense to have her sit at the end, if we’re being technical about it,” Ava muttered, and I couldn’t believe that the source of tension in the car right now was because of me.

These Hughes really knew how to make a girl feel welcome.

“That’s me.” I let out a nervous laugh on account of being stuck between two people who clearly had bigger issues at hand than the seating arrangement for a five-minute car ride. “Ever the inconvenience.”

No one laughed. My own faded into pathetic obscurity. The truck rolled to a stop in front of a beautiful white cape style house with blue shudders and a stone walkway leading up to the door.

A newlywed’s dream home, I thought with a pang.

And for the first time since I first found out, I saw Ava through a different lens. Not just an abrasive, somewhat uptight woman who clearly had it out for me—but someone who’d lost their husband far too early in life and had to pick up and carry on, regardless.

She was strong. Far stronger than I’d be under those circumstances. Life hadn’t dealt her a fair hand, but she somehow got out of bed each day and made it work, anyway.

I could learn a thing or two from her on that account.

“Thanks for the ride,” Ava said flatly as she climbed out of the truck.

“Bye, Ava,” I said, overcome by the newfound sympathy I had toward her. “Have a good n—”

She shut the door behind her.

I sucked in a breath, trying not to appear as visibly deflated as I felt.

“That’s Ava for you,” Will muttered. “Sorry about her.”

I said nothing, eyes still focused on the door that she’d just slammed in my face.

Heaving a sigh, I slid across the seat to the one she’d just occupied, taking the slight more personally than logic told me I should.

But I was a writer, so logic be damned. I ran on emotion and caffeine and little else.

“Oh, man.” I slapped a hand to my face. “I still need to write when I get home.”

“Are you on a deadline or something?”

“One of my own imposing, but yeah,” I told him. “If I don’t keep myself disciplined, then I lose track of it completely. Start giving myself breaks whenever I feel like it. You know how it goes.”

“Not really.”

Of course he didn’t. He checked things off his to-do list before the ink had even dried. He was a go-getter.

Well, damn it. I would be, too—even though I was so sleepy, and all I wanted to do was put on my fleece pajama pants and climb into bed, about three inches away from the heater.

I yawned, just thinking about the night ahead of me. I needed at least a thousand more words to hit my goal for the day, and the thought of doing that without a fun little drink to help me along, well, it seemed a fate too brutal to bear.

“Will,” I said sweetly, batting my eyelashes at him.

“Why do you look like you’re trying to ask me for something?”

“I was just wondering…” I started.

“Yes?”

“If you could maybe, possibly, potentially be tempted…”

“Yes?”

“Seeing as we’re out already, anyway…”