Page 100 of Changing Lanes

I face forward again, breaking the spell that had fallen over us. Or was it just me?

A peek over at a smiling Angela proves it wasn’t.

“I think a second date is the only way to redeem yourself, Cruz,” Angela says through a twinkling laugh.

“Don’t you have to go on a first date to get a second?”

Cruz looks above me, answering his boss, “We just did. Paige brought the date to me. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Sickeningly.”

Cruz reaches for my…I don’t even know, but I sidestep him, taking a sudden interest in the dismantled GX-R in Beckett’s otherwise immaculate workspace.

“Where were you that you made Cruz take over a job he had no business doing?” I ask Beckett, feeling him at my side before I see him.

“Hey, I’m not that bad.”

We both ignore Cruz’s protest.

“Something came up,” is all he says though.

I finally peel my eyes away from the wreckage spread at our feet and look at Beckett, finding him already watching me. Waiting.

“At the apartment?” I push.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, holding my gaze and putting his hands in his front pockets. The muscles in his biceps flex, revealing some imprints of my nails. I left marks, too. I did climb that tree. Many times. And I didn’t do it nicely.

Before I can question him further, Angela speaks up, saying, “I know. Why don’t you come with us this weekend to the Gorge? We’re all going to a huge music festival. We got a bunch of tents for glamping. You should join us.” Beckett’s eyes grow almost hopeful and I drop mine. “You too, Cruz. You guys can get to know each other better.”

I swear there’s something in Angela’s voice that has me doubting her sincerity. What’s she up to?

“Angie! The fuck? You can’t invite everyone,” Beckett shifts his gaze to Cruz, “and their dog. We didn’t reserve that many tents.”

“I have a tent I can bring,” Cruz offers, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

I shake my head. “I have to work.”

“Is Saturday still your day off?” Beckett asks and I nod. “We can ride together Saturday morning…after you get off.”

I cock an eyebrow at his choice of words. He knows what he said and he’s not backing off. Not with that guilty grin plastered to his face.

“You can crash with me,” Cruz offers. “I’m sure I can make enough room for both of us.”

Does anyone have a mute button? Holy shit, Cruz doesn’t stop talking. Beckett looks like he’s about to make one himself if I don’t say something soon.

“But we need your SUV, Beckett. It’s called glamping for a reason. All the shit we need won’t fit in Coty’s Camaro and it’ll just blow out of my Jeep. And I’m not risking scuffing Marc’s precious interior,” Angela adds.

Beckett rolls his eyes. “You worked at a coffee stand for like five minutes. Why do you have to take your fancy espresso machine everywhere now?”

“You helped buy it for me! And you like my coffee,” she shoots back, a grin tugging at her mouth.

Throwing up my hands, I start to back out of the bay. “I’ll have my friend, Cynthia, take me.” It’s no rave—I don’t think—but she loves to dance and we could both use the change in scenery.

“I bet three can fit fine in my tent,” Cruz chirps unhelpfully, earning a death glare sent down from Beckett.

“Thanks for the invite,” I say to Angela. “I’ll see you all on Saturday.”

Spinning on my booted heels, I dash across the lot for a quick exit before I have to deal with Cruz a second longer. I did not agree to another date with him. He’s in for a rude awakening when I show up with one of Jesse’s tents. I’ll even buy one before I sleep in the same tent as that guy. If he’s that grabby with pizza toppings that aren’t his, I can’t even imagine what else he’ll try to touch without asking.