“I know I’ll have to face it all later.” I added. “But...can it wait?”
“Yeah. It can wait.”
“Okay.” I let out a breath. “Don’t worry, all right? I’m doing okay. Better than okay.”
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” she said softly. “Really.”
We said our quick goodbyes—kisses for my nephews, a promise to call again soon—and I stepped away from the gift shop, gravel crunching underfoot as I made my way to the bus. My new sandals, surprisingly, held up better than most sneakers.
It was a small thing. But still, satisfying.
“How was it?” Joey asked as I climbed the steps.
“It was cool. You should’ve come.”
He gave a half-shrug. “Next time.” Then turned back to what he’d been reading—something about the bus, from the looks of it.
And since he seemed a little stressed, I gave him a small wave and headed to my seat. I settled in and stared out the window, feeling oddly peaceful as I watched as the others trickle out of the souvenir shop and make their way back.
Could I help it if a few butterflies fluttered when Noah climbed back on the bus? He was right behind Babs and Mrs. Grady, who…I noticed, was moving a little slower than she had earlier this morning, as if her body was resisting the pace of the schedule, but that she’d pushed through anyway.
Was Mrs. Grady a little clingy, a little needy? Absolutely. Compared to fighting breast cancer though, my issues—The Incident, the breakup, the whole spiral of self-doubt—felt pretty small.
And from what Noah said, he was, in fact, contemplating changes with his job, but he and his ex were not getting back together.
So maybe I’d give his mom a pass.
And Noah… Noah was here because she’d asked him to be.
That mattered.
How could I not crush on this guy?
Ever since he came to my room the night I got sick—since the Gatorade and the crackers and the cool cloth—things between the two of us had shifted.
The texting. The way I’d caught him checking me out more than once.
And now his coat…
Maybe it was reckless of me to entertain anything deeper than some camaraderie and a little casual flirting, but hey, I was having fun. For the first time in way too long, I was actually enjoying myself.
Noah’s mom eased into her seat across the aisle, and Babs settled in beside her with a little groan of contentment.
“Those miners. I don’t know how they did it,” Babs said, “Living their lives underground.”
Then Noah was standing above me, his gaze dropping to his jacket, then to my bare legs, and then back up to my face.
And that stare? It sent a different kind of shiver shooting through me—one that made me squeeze my thighs together.
“Hey,” I said, because my brain seemed to have short-circuited.
“Hey.” He dropped into his seat.
As everyone settled back into The Love Bus—Tay’s nickname was apparently sticking—the vibe had shifted. Everyone seemed perkier now, less groany and hungover, more animated as they recounted the morning’s adventure.
I was partially convinced it was this town itself—Ouray, cradled in a box canyon and surrounded by peaks that didn’t just rise but sliced into the sky. It was called America’s Little Switzerland, and I could see why. It was rugged, isolated, but also…charming.
Noah’s arm brushed mine, and while I searched my brain for something, anything witty and clever to say, I kind of lost track of the scenery. That was, until the road curved sharply, and the bus shifted gears with a heavy growl.
