Page 38 of The Love Bus

I had my head tilted back to meet his stare.

His pupils had dilated, eclipsing the stormy blue.

He was looking at my mouth. I was looking at his.

And we just stood there, breathing the same air…. And then?—

Someone bumped into me from behind. Josie.

“I’m live, friends!” she announced in full-on local newscaster mode.

Noah stepped back just as I yanked my hand from his pocket.

“We’re back from seeing the Colorado National Monument this morning,” Josie said, holding her camera out in front of her, “with the handsome Dr. Noah. And look who’s up and about—our little chef, recovered from her mysterious illness. Tell me, Luna,” she winked, “how was the shopping?”

“I, uh…fine?”

Noah shook his head, but he was laughing. “Josie, you’re filming the bus.”

She frowned, adjusting her angle, and—thank the travel gods—seemed to forget about us entirely.

Without waiting for a second take, we ducked inside the hotel and made our way to the elevator.

A small group had gathered by the doors—Babs, Christine, and a few of the others—who were all chatting about today’s excursion.

I stayed silent, very aware of the person standing about three inches from me.

When the elevator stopped on our floor and we all split off toward our rooms, Noah went ahead of me, walking backward though, so that he could stay facing me.

“What kind of wine do you like?” he asked.

What?

“Since you’re skipping the tour this evening.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” But then I stopped myself.

He’d asked.

He wanted to know.

“Pinot Grigio,” I said.

He nodded once. Just once. Then he turned and disappeared down the hall.

And suddenly I felt like I was sixteen again, watching the guy I liked walk away and trying not to read too much into everything.

What was happening?

Back in my room, I tore open the Velcro, kicked off my new Chacos—they landed in a satisfied little heap by the door—and flopped onto the bed.

Incapable of keeping this to myself, I grabbed the phone and fired off a message to Ashley:

Me: Okay so… I think he wanted to kiss me??

I barely had time to blink before my phone lit up.

“Don’t say it.”

“I’m already saying it,” Ashley replied. “No. Just—no. You’re on a healing trip, remember? Not a ‘let’s make out with the first hot guy who makes me tingle’ trip.”

“I’m not making out with anyone!”

“You just texted me saying he almost kissed you. What does that mean, anyway? How did this happen?”

“How much time do you have?”

“The boys are over at Susan and Bob’s tonight, so…spill. I want all the tea.”

There were things that I was reluctant to admit to my overprotective, bossy sister—like, for example, the fact that I’d let myself get dangerously dehydrated the day before—but if she wanted all the tea, I was going to give it to her.

So, lying back on my pillow, I just…gushed? For I didn’t know how long.

I told her everything—from our first meeting on the plane, which honestly probably should’ve scared him off from the get-go, all the way up to the way he’d taken care of me yesterday after I’d gotten sick.

I talked about how he’d banished ghosts for me at the Stanley Hotel even though he didn’t believe in them.

I went over our lunch together in Granby, and those few hours at the Adventure Park in Glenwood.

The way he seemed to like checking up on me. I didn’t leave out a single detail.

And then I got to the moment where I thought he wanted to kiss me right before Josie interrupted us with her live video.

“So…what do you think?” I bit my lower lip. “I mean, would it really be a mistake?”

Ashley hummed. “I’m thinking I need to download Facebook again and follow these people on your tour.”

I snorted. “Let's not be hasty.”

“Honestly though, that does sound romantic,” she said after a long pause. Surprisingly, my sister didn’t sound judgy. In fact, she sounded…wistful.

“Right?” I smiled, then hesitated. Her voice had gone quieter. Softer around the edges. “Bex is romantic, isn’t he?”

“He used to be…”

Another pause.

And then she sighed. “I don’t know. He’s still him. It’s just...sometimes I think we forgot how to be us.”

That landed in my chest with a dull little thud.

“Oh, Ash.”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, rallying. “We’re just in a weird season. Every couple has them. It’ll pass.”

But something in her voice didn’t sound like she believed that.

I wanted to say more, to press, but knowing Ash, she wouldn’t let me.

“Anyway,” she added, a little too brightly. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you and your surprise mountain crush. Maybe…maybe it’s not all bad. I mean, you sound…different.”

“Different?”

“Like...yourself. How you used to be. For the first time in months.”

That stopped me. She hadn’t said since the breakup, but for the first time in months?

“I guess a harmless little holiday romance isn’t going to kill you. Just be careful, okay? I’m not saying don’t enjoy it. But don’t lose your head either.”

I swallowed, my fingers trailing over the edge of the pillowcase. “I won’t. Promise.”

We said our goodbyes, and after I hung up, I sat there for a second, staring at the ceiling.

My chest felt lighter. And heavier.

My sister sounded…not herself.

Buzz.

The phone lit up again, but this time, I just stared at it until it fell silent.

Leo could go straight to…

Voicemail.

I stood. Paced. Sat back down. Got back up.

Nope. I couldn’t stay in this room all night.

I grabbed the itinerary from the desk. Evening winery tour with paired dinner. 5:45 p.m. departure. That was in fifteen minutes.

If I hurried…

I brushed on some mascara, dabbed on lip gloss, fluffed my curls with my fingers, and added a spritz of perfume I’d almost forgotten I packed.

And when I stepped outside, the bus was still rumbling in front of the hotel.

Guess I was going to the winery after all.