Page 33 of A Real Goode Time

“It wouldn’t be weird?” he asked. “I mean, we just met yesterday.”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Yeah, we just met yesterday, but…maybe this sounds weird but…I feel like I know you. You know?”

“Like we’re old friends,” he said.

Old friends.

Old friends!

HOLY SHIT.

“Crap!” I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and glanced at it for the first time since yesterday. “I was supposed to check in with Leighton and Jillie yesterday.”

“Roommates?”

I nodded as I called them both in a group FaceTime. “Yeah, roommates and best friends. They made me promise I’d check in every night at nine, and I forgot. The first night, and I forgot. God, I hope they didn’t call the police.”

Rhys chuckled. “Call the police? You’ve been gone less than forty-eight hours. Why would they call the police?”

I sighed as the line rang and rang. “Well, they both think this whole thing I’m doing is pretty stupid. They feel I should swallow my pride and just ask my sister to fly me up. They’re both relatively certain I’m going to end up, as Leighton keeps saying, getting raped and murdered. So they made me swear I’d call them and check in every night at nine, or they’d call the police.”

Just then, the line blurped and Leighton and Jillie appeared—clearly both at home, in their own rooms.

“I’m sorry!” I blurted. “I forgot. I was…I forgot. But I’m fine.”

“You forgot…the very first night?” Leighton frowned, peering at her screen. “Wait. Where ARE you?”

“Um, well?” I winced. “I’m actually still in Connecticut.”

Silence.

“You…what?” Jillie asked, blinking in confusion. “How? Why? Where?”

“Well, um. See, when I checked the bus times I was, you know, a little stoned. And I got the times mixed up. I thought there was a six thirtyp.mbus, but it was actually six thirtya.m.”

“Oh mygod, Torie, you dumbass.” Leighton was laughing so hard she was snorting. “So what happened?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly discover my mix-up right away. I walked to the bus station from work, which was…pretty far. And it started raining. Like, a torrential downpour.”

“Oh no, you poor thing!” Jillie said. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it did. So then this, umm…Good Samaritan picked me up, and brought me to the bus station, andthat’swhen I discovered that I’d mixed up the bus times.” I was debating whether or not I should introduce Rhys to my friends.

“So then…?” Leighton prompted. “Why didn’t you just come home?”

“Well, I was going to try the bus thing again the next morning. But I sort of overslept.”

“Oversleptwhere?” Leighton demanded. “You’re leaving out something major, I can tell.”

I eyed Rhys. He just grinned, and reached for the phone. Reluctantly, with an apologetic wince for him at the apoplectic, disbelieving interrogation he was about to receive, I handed it over.

He let out a breath, and turned on a charming smile that had my heart going pitter-patter a mile a minute. “Hi, Leighton and Jillie. My name is Rhys Frost. I’m Torie’s new friend. She stayed at my place last night—alone. I live less than fifteen minutes from the bus station, and I was going to drive her there this morning, but we both kind of overslept, so she helped me out with some work today and made some cash. I’m twenty-six, single, I own my own engine repair and auto salvage company, I have an older sister who lives in Dallas and both parents are living and married and live in Kentucky. I have no record, criminal or traffic, and I think everyone should be so lucky as to have friends as awesome as you guys are to Torie.” He paused. “Any other questions?”

There was stunned silence from both of them.

“I…do you have any plans to rape and murder my friend?” Leighton asked.

Rhys burst out laughing. “God, you found me out. Damn it. If only you hadn’t guessed my nefarious plan.” He laughed again.