Page 5 of Holding Penalty

Then, I do the very last thing I expected to do when I left home today. I hop into Nash Miller’s truck.

2

NASH

Piper Dashwood is in my truck.

Hm. That fact should probably annoy me more than it does. After all, she’s annoyed me more times than I could possibly count over the years.

But having her next to me in the front seat of my truck, feeling even closer in the confined space thanks to the lack of a center console in this old-fashioned bench seating, actually feels kind of …

“Do you remember the last thing you said to me in college?” Piper’s question interrupts my train of thought before I can find the appropriate word to finish that sentence.

Maybe that’s for the best.

“You’ll have to remind me,” I answer, hands on the wheel and eyes on the long dark road.

“We’d been neighbors for two long years. Emphasis on long,” she says, and my lips tick as I bite back a smile I have no business donning around Piper. “After sharing such a significant portion of our formative years together, the very last thing you said to me when we happened to be coming home at the same time, the day before move-out day, was, you put your trash out too early yesterday.”

She lowers her voice in a pathetic attempt to imitate me.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“That’s what everyone says when they hear a perfect impression of themselves.”

I grunt. “You did put your trash out too early. Not just that week, but every week. It looks bad. And can attract rodents.”

She blows a raspberry. “I’d make another comment about that stick up your ass, but I’m sure you’d hold it against me again.”

“No matter how much you beg, Piper, I’m never holding my ass against you.”

Several beats of dead silence pass, and worry sneaks up on me that maybe I crossed a line with that little joke. Speaking of my ass, Piper might have been a pain in it with her loud parties and living her generally chaotic lifestyle right next to me, but I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable while I’m giving her a ride.

Should I apologize? Should I make a safer joke to break the tension? Should I …

Then, Piper starts to laugh.

It starts with an awkward guffaw. Then a steady chuckle. Then, suddenly, she’s cracking up. Peals of laughter leap from her, filling the cabin of my truck. It almost sounds like sobs are mixed in. I glance to my side to see tears streaming down her cheeks.

I have no idea if those are normal tears of laughter or if she’s actually crying. I also have no idea if I should be driving to the nearest hospital instead of dropping her off wherever she lives. Is she okay?

“Sorry,” she says once she gathers some composure. She wipes her eyes with her palms. “I guess I really, really needed a laugh.” There’s a rueful, almost sorrowful, note in her voice.

The sound makes something pull in my chest. My face twists in concern.

“I guess I haven’t gotten any better at navigating the adult world, huh?” she asks, sounding more like she’s talking to herself. “Couldn’t put my trash out at the right time in college, and now I’m finding myself stranded on the side of the road and needing to be rescued by Nash Miller.”

The deprecating way she practically spits my name finally makes me lose the battle against my lips. A smirk tilts my mouth.

“What happened, anyway?” I ask.

She takes a deep breath. Her voice gently cracks right at the exhale, and another pang of worry strikes in my chest.

“Can I plead the fifth?” she asks.

I shrug. The motion feels stiff, though, because now I really do want to know what happened. “You can do whatever you want.”

Silence settles as the truck’s tires eat up the empty road in front of us, bringing us closer to Austin. A couple minutes tick by.