Page 125 of Worth the Trip

Loose curls.

Close enough that I could smell sugar on her.

“I hate leaving.”

“You’ve been here almost three hours.”

“Still hate leaving.”

“I know.”

She stepped into me and adjusted the edge of my collar.

Nothing was wrong with it.

I let her anyway.

“Text me when you get home.”

“I will.”

“When you’re actually home. Not at a gas station.”

“I hear you.”

“And don’t speed.”

“I don’t speed.”

“You coach football and drive a black SUV. That combination feels statistically dishonest.”

“My driving record is respectable.”

“That doesn’t mean spotless.”

“It means none of your business.”

She laughed.

I took her hand.

“You got something else.”

“How do you know?”

Her fingers touched the pendant at her throat.

I looked down at them.

She immediately dropped her hand.

“Annoying.”

“Accurate.”

Nolani glanced toward the road before coming back to me.

“You showed up for my world today.”