“Best road trip ever.”
“Probably shouldn’t eat the cookies either.”
I roll the window down as we leave town. The wind overpowers the radio so I can’t hear the symphonic pop, but it’s so freaking pretty today.
A little warm, but we won’t die.
Oliver makes me pull over in the next little town for us to dump the lemonade and stale Oreos in a trash can, and then we’re back on the road.
After a while, I roll my window back up. My hair’s probably imitating a cartoon villain’s favorite style, and the sugar high from breakfast is fading.
“So where are you dumping me tonight?” I ask Oliver. Might as well address it and get it over with.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him watch me for what feels like a moderate eternity. “Your friend taught you to cook?” he finally says.
“I can make a phenomenal mac ’n’ cheese out of a box and semi-homemade spaghetti, but the grill is where I truly excel. Well, the grill and oatmeal. I make a mean oatmeal.”
“You make…a mean…oatmeal.”
“Yes.”
“The world’s mostboringfood?”
“Don’t mock the world’s mostversatilefood.”
He’s totally mocking oatmeal. And me.
And honestly, I don’t know if it’s the world’s most versatile food. Bea sometimes puts it in cookies, and you can add practically anything to oatmeal to ramp up the flavor profile.
I shrug. “I’d show you, but despite being the world’s most versatile food, oatmeal doesn’t work for dinner, and our three days are up today, so…”
He sighs.
I know that sigh.
It’s the universal sigh ofshe’s going to make me ask her to stay longer.
If I were by myself, I’d do a happy butt wiggle.
But I restrain it while he grinds out the words. “I could use a little more help adjusting to the real world.”
“Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but youcanlearn to cook from the internet.”
“Cooking isn’t everything I need to figure out.”
“You did pretty good back there at the lemonade stand.”
“Every last person I’ve handed a hundred-dollar bill has treated me like it’s fake.”
“Noteverylast person.”
“I’m going to get arrested for suspicion of counterfeiting before I—before I’m done with what I need to do.”
Dammit.
He almost spilled the beans. Almost clued me in on what he’s doing.
But he caught himself.
