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Except now it's covered in fucking sticky notes.

Beck makes a strange choking noise beside me.

“No.” That's all I manage. Yellow, pink, blue, and green notes cover my truck. Across the windshield. The driver’s window. The hood. Mirrors. Doors. Body of the truck. Hell, there are even several stuck to the tailgate.

Beck loses it. His head drops back against the seat as laughter explodes out of him.

“Don't fucking start.”

That makes him laugh harder.

I glare at him.

“Your—” He points at my truck. “Your fucking truck.”

“I see it.”

“Holy shit.” He shakes his head. “Are all the women here like Callie?”

I snarl as I push open the door. “Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

My feet hit the blacktop.

Beck gets out of his truck.

“Stay in your truck.”

He laughs. “Absolutely not.”

My hands curl into fists. “Mapquest.”

“I wouldn't miss this for anything.”

I slam the door and walk toward my truck.

The first note I pluck from the driver's window simply says:

Round two winner: Callie!

I close my eyes.

Behind me, Beck starts laughing again. “Is that her handwriting?”

“Shut up.”

Another one beside it:

I’m very flexible.

A pink fucking sticky note.

Somewhere is not an address.

My mouth twitches. Fuck.

“What does that one say?”

“Nothing.”