Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

BENJI

My instincts were never wrong, and I knew from the second I saw Warren on top of me that he wasn't going to be able to resist helping me. Maybe he was right, and I'd taken a bit of a gamble climbing into his truck to begin with, but he'd paid for my pancakes and held the truck door open for me so I could climb into the passenger seat without a word.

And he'd carefully slung my backpack into the space between us before he climbed into the driver's side and started his truck up again.

It was nice not having to hide in the back seat. I'd expected to stay scrunched up under that blanket for hours. Instead, I turned my head toward Warren and let a smile flit across my features.

"Thank you."

"Yeah," he muttered. I watched his shoulders rise and fall in a silent sigh. "I still think you aren't realizing how much of a risk you took."

I was aware, but I just drew one knee up to my chest and rested my cheek on it so I could keep watching him while he kept his eyes on the road, pulling back onto the freeway.

"It doesn't matter how much of a risk it was. I can promise you, it's better here than stranded back at that stop with no way out of the state."

"I'm not like… harboring a fugitive, am I?" He hedged the question carefully, and I let out a sharp burst of laughter.

"Oh, yeah, you're smuggling a killer across state lines. The FBI is going to be after you soon." I made sure to lace the words with as much sarcasm as I could manage, and I didn't miss the flick of his bright blue eyes as they turned to me for a second.

"You don't look like you could kill anything." He didn't give me a chance to defend my slight stature, though. He just glanced at me again. "But you do look like you're in trouble."

I frowned, twisting to rest my forehead against my knee. Exactly how much did I want to tell him?

How much did I want a virtual stranger to know about me? He'd been nice enough not to strangle me in the back of his truck when he found me, and after his little confession in the diner, I had to wonder if it was because of the attraction between us that I was beginning to think was mutual.

Attraction probably wasn't enough of a reason to confess my deepest, darkest secrets. So…

"Trouble always seems to find me. What matters is you're nice enough to drive me in the opposite direction." I tried for a sweet smile, but there was something about the way he looked at me that told me he was seeing right through it.

I didn't know how much I liked feeling seen.

It wasn't something that I usually allowed, if I was being honest. Getting close to people was the best way to get into trouble.

I managed do to that without any help.

For his part, Warren looked at me for a few seconds like he wanted to ask more. I could see the curiosity burning unbridled behind his stare. For a second, I thought he was going to break down and push the topic, and I found myself wondering what I would do about it.

I could tell him.

Or... If he got too curious, I could do what I always did, couldn't I? My eyes slid across the distance between us again, and I looked him up and down.

Was that what I wanted? I wasn't sure. There was something different about Warren, and I?—

My phone vibrated in my pocket, cutting me off from the thoughts before they could form in my head. It was probably better that way. I didn't need to think so hard about it. This wasn't a permanent situation, after all.

It was just a free ride.

I shifted to pull my phone out of my pocket and frowned as soon as I saw the name flashing across the screen.

Mitchy.

Fucking Mitchy, who obviously didn't know when to give up since he was calling me. It was about what I expected, but that didn't stop me from sending him to voicemail and flipping the phone over onto my lap before it started buzzing again.

"Trouble?" Warren sounded more concerned than he had a right to be for someone who'd just met me… and someone who I'd pretty much forced my way into getting a ride with.

"That's my middle name, baby."

He didn't look amused.

The phone call made up my mind to keep my mouth shut, and I managed to steer our conversation into small talk for the next few hours. By the time the sun rose, Warren knew that my favorite color was teal, and I was twenty-four years old. He asked me what kind of movies I watched, and knew I liked rock music.

I knew that he'd had a serious relationship when he was younger, but he'd broken it off with the woman before they did anything as drastic as getting married and settling down to have kids together, because he was tired of living a lie. He was thirty, and he was happy with the life he'd chosen.

Apparently, he loved the solitude and peace of the night sky, but that didn't stop him from quirking his lips up and smiling at me when I told him I'd never had a girlfriend in my life.

For someone who liked the quiet, he sure did seem to find a million and one questions to ask me.

At least he'd taken the hint from earlier, and he hadn't strayed back into questioning what kind of trouble I was in. I didn't miss his eyes flicking down every time my phone buzzed, until I finally powered the damn thing down before he couldn't resist anymore.

As the sky turned a gorgeous shade of pink, Warren pulled off at what had to be one of the cheapest motels I'd ever seen.

"Come on." He glanced around the parking lot with a small frown. It didn't look particularly full to me. Then again, the motel wasn't exactly huge. "Let's see if we can get a room."

I didn't know why he looked so apprehensive when he said it, but I caught his eyes drifting back to his truck for a second before he made a point to turn and lock the doors behind him.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Do you usually do that?"

"No, can't say I do. But someone recently made me realize I might have a problem if I don't."

I couldn't even bother to plaster a guilty expression on my face. After all, him leaving his truck unlocked was the only reason I was here, miles and miles away from the city I'd been in before. I was looking at the prospect of getting to share a room with an extremely attractive man, whose long blond hair was currently falling loose from its tie to snarl in curls over his shoulder.

Yeah, maybe he was a stranger, but I could work with that. In fact, I might have preferred it.

Watching his broad shoulders disappear into the front desk area, I was pretty sure I did prefer it. There were no hang ups.

No real danger.

There was just Warren and the way he'd folded like a fucking card table when I'd hopped out of his truck and intentionally left my bag behind.