Page 6

I think.

I scan the sidewalk to make sure I’m the only loser here. Yep. I confirm I am, except for the feral island chickens flapping their wings and running to take cover in the bushes from the intensifying winds.

“You Sophia?” the lady calls. Her hair is salt and pepper, and she’s wearing a purple tie-dyed top under a pair of paint-splattered denim overalls.

I nod slowly as I take in the scene.

Two oversize dogs angry-wrestle in the passenger seat beside her. Three bath loofahs hang from the tip of the bent radio antenna. One is pink, one is teal, and one is black, and I’m pretty sure they are a sign of her kink preferences.

I raise my brows. Good for her.

I wobble my head in admiration of her sexy-time choices, but still, I’m growing concerned at the overall scenario, mostly because Gio is still watching our exchange. His fingers drum the steering wheel like he’s waiting for something to happen, though I don’t know what.

The woman calls out, “Got a text, said you needed a ride. I was in the area and thought I’d swing by. I’m Tina. Jump in.” She juts her chin toward the bed of the truck as if she’s suggesting I’ll be riding in the back with the cages filled with livestock.

Livestock! Did I mention the petting-farm logo painted on the truck’s door?

A goat with a mohawk sticks out its tongue and “baas” at me.

“Oh. My. God.” My jaw drops slowly like I’m releasing a silent scream.

When I lock eyes with Gio, I can’t hold back the terrified expression playing across my face. Worse? He’s smiling, but this time, it’s more victorious than before.

“You sure about that ride?” Gio pats his passenger seat, beckoning me. “You know, the ride with the nice, clean, comfortable leather seat without barnyard animals.” His grin is so big, it’s unnatural. “I’ll bet this is one of your favorite songs too.” He cranks the radio and bops his head.

How did he know that?!

It hits me then, the truth of it all. This is what Gio was waiting for. He said he knew Jaz’s aunty. He knew I was about to be hauled off with the petting-farm animals. And all this time, he was waiting to see it for himself.

“I could say I told you so, but that wouldn’t be very, uh, what’s the word you used earlier? Oh, right. Gentlemanly,” Gio hollers from the car, flashing me the grinniest grin that was ever grinned.

That motherforker.

My gaze bounces between my options. I either hitch a ride with the very friendly and helpful lady with the truckload of cute barnyard friends, or I ride with my new enemy.

My mouth snaps shut. I steel my expression and square my shoulders. And then I make the only possible choice.

2/

giovanni

Waving Middle-Finger Red Flags

When I landed, I was in a rush to settle into the hotel. It’s been a long day of travel, and I have a shit-ton to do. But with the intriguing way the afternoon unfolded, I slowed my roll, because I’m more than a little curious about my adorable new frienemy.

With her pearly skin and perfectly coifed blond hair, she’s a dead ringer for that spunky California sorority chick. You know, the one from that movie where she goes to Harvard to win back an old boyfriend. Except Sparkles is curvier and a tad more feral, like an abandoned kitten.

When presented with the choice of who to ride with, she chose what any hardheaded person would when given an easy solution. She did not choose the comfortable ride with the helpful man she just met. No, Sparkles chose chaos.

So now, even though I offered to help, she’s straining to toss several massive suitcases into the bed of Tina’s truck. Each time one lands, the chickens frantically flutter around in their cages, causing feathers to fly.

I snicker behind my hand. I can’t help it. I tried to warn her, though I did leave out certain, less savory details.

Like, telling her about Piggy Smalls and the fact that he bites. Or that she’d likely be sitting in the crusty trench of manure that rivals the prehistoric layers of Hawaii’s version of the Grand Canyon, Waimea Canyon. It’s a working farm truck, after all.

If I were a gentleman, I wouldn’t be sitting here laughing my ass off as she precariously climbs on the tailgate and falls headfirst into the bed with legs and feet flailing like a cartoon character. She’s a beautiful disaster, and for some reason, I can’t look away.

I cry actual tears when her shoe tumbles over the edge and lands on the sidewalk. She quickly rights herself, preparing to jump out and grab it, but Tina’s already pulling away from the curb. Black smoke erupts from the tailpipe with a kaboom.