Page 132 of In Case You Didn't Know

I blink in confusion. Because yes, I know that. We’re sitting in it. “Um, well done?”

She pushes my arm. “I mean, we have a car. We don’t have to sit around and act all faint. We can do something. Like drive to New York and find out what the hell our emotionally constipated men are up to.”

My mouth twitches. “You want to storm the city?”

She grins. “It beats waiting at home like a good little wife appliance.”

I’m not sure who she’s describing, because Skyler in no way fits the phrase wife appliance. Unless you’re talking about a washing machine that not only refuses to do laundry but also organizes all the other domestic appliances to rise up against the patriarchy, because white goods have feelings too.

But she also has a point.

“It really does.” I’ve been from Liberty to New York to Virginia and then back to Liberty in the past few days. What’s another few hundred miles between friends?

I look down at my phone again. Still no reply.

I raise my brows. “You sure you’re up for a five-hour road trip?’”

Skyler shrugs. “The baby’s fine with it. It’s my bladder that’s the problem.”

“Okay,” I say. “But you need to drive. I’m a menace on the roads. Plus I’m a writer on a deadline, remember?”

“Absolutely. You can write a death scene from the passenger seat,” she tells me. “Preferably involving two brothers who think they know better than anybody else.” She pulls out her phone. “Let me just call Jesse and ask if he can keep Ayda overnight.”

Jesse is Skyler’s half-brother. And Ayda is in love with him. I’m pretty sure the feeling’s mutual. “I’ll tell him we’re channeling our inner Thelma and Louise.”

“Without the death scene,” I remind her.

“Obviously.” Skyler looks so buzzed she’s practically vibrating in her seat. “Unless Asher or Hudson try to pull more of their macho-man nonsense, in which case all bets are off.

“I’m totally fine with that,” I tell her, unbuckling my seat belt.

While she calls Jesse, who agrees with equanimity because the man doesn’t have a bad bone in his body, I climb out of the car and slip my phone behind the big ceramic plant pot by her front door.

She catches me as I’m climbing back in. “What did you do with your phone?”

I shrug. “I figure if Asher decides to use his stupid technology and track me, he’ll think I’m chilling here.”

“Ooh, you’re a devious little genius.” She grins widely. “I love it.”

It takes her a few minutes to run inside and pack an overnight bag for herself and Ayda. Then we swing by Jesse’s place. He’s waiting on the porch with Ayda clinging to one hand, the other holding out his phone like he’s about to defuse a bomb.

“Thanks,” Skyler says, squeezing Ayda tight, then swapping phones with Jesse. “Text me if she starts climbing the walls.”

“I have no idea why you’re making me use your phone,” he mutters as he slides hers into his pocket. “I’m too scared to ask.”

“In case we’re tracked,” Skyler says, like we’re in the middle of a spy movie. “We’re going full-onMission Impossible.”

Jesse blinks. “Right. Obviously.”

Before he can ask any more questions we peel out of the driveway, making a quick stop at Mylene’s for coffee because Skyler claims she can’t launch a rescue mission without caffeine.

“I need fuel, even if it’s only decaf. What if I have to chase a man down?” she asks as we walk up to Mylene’s counter.

Mylene raises an eyebrow. “Should I even ask?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Probably not.”

But Skyler is way too excited to keep quiet. “We’re going to pick a fight with the patriarchy,” she says. “Maybe stage an emotional intervention. Depends on traffic.”