Page 37 of The Love Bus

PRETTY WOMAN

I didn’t know how long Noah stayed.

Throughout the night, I drifted awake a few times—just enough to register movement, a drink being offered, and rewetting the cloth on my forehead. He didn’t speak much. He was just…there.

Once, I opened my eyes and saw him stretched out on the second bed. Still dressed, but his shoes were off, and his arms were folded across his chest like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, that wayward strand of hair curling around his cheek.

I hadn’t asked him to stay. I hadn’t expected it. But knowing he was there made me feel protected.

Without feeling like a burden.

I vaguely registered that that didn’t make sense.

I would figure out why later.

However, I eventually fell into a deep sleep. It could have been days or just hours, but I didn’t dream. Pretty sure I didn’t even move.

I must have been more tired than I’d realized.

At some point, I registered the muffled slam of a door down the hall. Voices. Footsteps. I rolled over and fell back asleep.

The next time I regained any sort of awareness, I was able to make out the sound of traffic moving outside the window, car horns and motorcycles, muted by the distance and the glass.

Was it morning? Late morning?

I opened my eyes to find that the room was almost pitch black. Room-darkening curtains were drawn, but the small amount of sunlight that did come in blazed through the edges, too bright to be early.

It was definitely daytime.

My head still ached, but somehow…I didn’t feel quite as heavy as I had the night before.

My body felt like it was mine again.

Surprisingly, I also felt…hungry. Though I supposed that shouldn’t have been a surprise, really, considering I hadn’t eaten more than a few crackers since Holy Guacamole.

How long had I been asleep?

Cheese on a cracker! Had I missed the bus? I sat up too fast, the blood rushing to my head, and had to close my eyes again until the room steadied.

Wait, no. Now I remembered. We were staying here two nights. Calm down.

I wasn’t late. I wasn’t in trouble.

That established, I peered hazily around the room, trying to gather my bearings.

A folded note, propped against the base of the lamp beside a bottle of water and a couple of Tylenol, caught my eye.

I turned on the lamp and squinted at the scrawl.

The handwriting was barely legible, like it had been written on the run or during an earthquake.

I laughed softly. Noah.

If I’d needed any more proof that he was a doctor, his handwriting sealed the deal.

Faraday.

My name , scribbled in his hand. The tiniest flutter stirred in my chest.

Like he’d wanted to make sure I knew I hadn’t been alone.

Rest up today. I’ll let Tay know you’re not joining the group. Drink. Relax. Don’t worry. Also… DRINK. See you tonight. —N

I couldn’t help but smile.

Housekeeping hadn’t knocked all morning, and I only realized why later, when I opened the door for the room service I’d finally ordered—Noah had hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the handle.

So him .

“I’m not just being nice, Luna.”

Nope. Nope. Not gonna go there.

He would have done the same for anyone on our trip, surely. Because he was a helper. Because he truly was one of the good ones.

The fact that he’d stayed most of the night with me didn’t mean anything.

It just meant he was more of a hero than I’d thought before.

Had I called him that? Had I actually told him he was a hero?

Nothing wrong with that. We were friends now.

I lifted the cloche off my plate and sat down to eat.

And it could have been because I was just that hungry, but honestly, the Eggs Benedict was amazing.

With a perfectly runny yolk and a hollandaise that didn’t taste like it came from a packet.

I was almost startled by how good it was.

The muffin wasn’t soggy, the ham had a nice sear, and someone in that kitchen actually knew how to plate.

I must be feeling more like myself if I was judging another cook.

After finishing more than half of the meal and then taking a leisurely shower, I finally felt human enough to pull on some real clothes.

That’s when I spotted my poor K Jacques by the door, the broken strap dangling like a sad little noodle. I picked it up and winced.

Yeah…that was not going to get me through the rest of the trip. But I had all day. And it was up to me to do something to rectify the situation.

I was in an unfamiliar town, not on another planet.

I mean, even small western towns had to have stores, right?

After straightening up the room, because I couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving a mess for the housekeepers, I dropped my keycard into my purse and headed downstairs. At the front desk, a bubbly woman sat at a smaller station just off to the side of check-in, practically bouncing in her chair.

“I know just the place.” She barely let me finish my question. “Head down Main Street about two blocks—you’ll see Wild Canyon Outfitters on the corner. They’ll fix you right up.”

And, to my surprise, she was right.

The place was rustic but packed, and within minutes, I was explaining my situation to a fit-looking woman with salt-and-pepper braids wearing khaki shorts and hiking boots.

She took one look at my busted sandal and said, “ Chacos .”

“What?”

“Follow me.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You need Chacos. Lightweight, grippy soles, built for hiking.”

Ten minutes later, I was walking around the shop in my new sandals, armed with sunscreen, a sun hat, an insulated water bottle, lip balm, and the feeling that maybe—just maybe—I could complete this trip without falling apart.

By the time I stepped out of the shop, the sun was high and hot again, but this time, I was prepared. And I was only a few blocks from my air-conditioned room.

I walked back slowly, letting myself enjoy my surroundings—the funky little galleries, the racks of T-shirts outside gift shops, the smell of coffee and cinnamon wafting from somewhere nearby.

Just as I approached the entrance to the hotel, a familiar silver bus pulled up under the canopied drive-up.

For a split second, I was tempted to bolt like I was in trouble, some schoolkid caught out playing hooky. But then I reminded myself it was okay that I was actually a twenty-eight-year-old woman on a bus tour, and that no one was going to yell at me for taking a day to rest up.

Even though it was my own fault I made myself sick.

Okay, shush Luna, that was entirely unhelpful.

I mean, sure, Mom was the one who paid for this trip, but it was my vacation.

So, as the doors swung open, I straightened my shoulders and waited, keeping my head held high.

Although, yeah, I did feel a little awkward.

Patty spotted me first. “There she is!” she called with a big smile. “We missed you today!”

A few others echoed the sentiment as they trickled out, waving, smiling.

“We saw the Colorado National Monument,” Denise added. “You would’ve loved it. So gorgeous!”

Tay waved to me from the steps. “You feeling better?” She looked more concerned than disapproving, thankfully.

“Much,” I said.

“Will you be joining us for the winery tour tonight?” she asked.

My first instinct was to say yes. I should, right? I’d already missed this morning’s excursion.

But then I felt the tug of fatigue still lingering in my bones.

“I might just chill out here, actually.”

Tay gave me a thumbs-up. “Good call.”

That’s when I saw Noah.

He was near the front of the bus, helping a few of the older women down the steps—steady hand, patience for days. His mom was the last to descend, and he offered her his arm without a word,

His sunglasses were still on, hiding his eyes, but not the way his T-shirt clung to his shoulders, or the fit of his cargo shorts, which even though they were a little baggy, managed to show off his trim waist. Also, I suddenly wonder if I’m a leg woman…

A water bottle dangled from his free hand, and hoo boy, the man looked like summer itself.

But honestly, his appeal wasn’t just about his looks.

It was how present he was. Quietly capable.

Then his head turned, just a little, toward me.

And when he dipped his chin, staring at me from over those aviators, his gaze washed over me like a breeze caressing my skin, subtle but impossible to ignore.

My pulse tripped.

He flicked his stare down to my new sandals…then back up.

I didn’t need his approval. But there it was. That tiny smile? It said, I see you.

And I—I didn’t know what to do with that.

We were friends. I was fresh off a breakup.

This was just Noah. A guy could be helpful and nice while still being hot, right?

I was…grateful. That was all.

Right?

“Shopping?” he asked.

I lifted one foot. “Chacos.”

His grin spread. “Nice choice.”

Before I could say anything else, his mother appeared beside him, cheeks a little pink from the sun.

“You certainly look rested, Luna,” she said politely.

“I am, actually,” I said, awkwardly showing my new water bottle. “I’m not gonna slack on the water again, that’s for sure.”

She nodded and moved ahead, calling out to Babs.

Noah lingered.

I wanted to thank him—for everything he’d done last night—but Josie was just a few steps away, fiddling with her phone.

He’d come to my room. Stayed. Sat with me while I was damn near delirious. Made sure I drank, put Band-Aids on my blisters, watched over me while I slept.

So instead of saying any of that, I reached into my bag and pulled out a few crumpled bills. “For the Gatorade. And the crackers.”

He looked down at the money like it had personally insulted him.

When he didn’t take it, I reached forward and stuffed the bills into the pocket of his shorts. “Those vending machines are highway robbery.”

His hand caught mine before I could pull back, and I had no choice but to take a step forward. Into his space. With my hand trapped in his pocket.

His scent hit me—the woodsy scent, but warmer now, hints of sun and salt, and—Noah… I was suddenly hyperaware of the space between us. Which wasn’t much.

“You don’t need to give me money.” His voice was low.

“But I do.”