Page 41 of The Love Bus

A PROPER HUMAN

F or once, I was one of the first to board the bus. Hair freshly washed and pulled into a high ponytail, clean T-shirt, jean shorts—legs shaved, effort made. Luna Faraday, back on her game.

I’d even had time to swing through the lobby for coffee. Filled a large to-go cup to the brim, with just the right amount of cream and sugar, and gave it a confident stir.

It wasn’t the fancy stuff, but having it, along with a full bottle of water, made me feel prepared. Like I was a proper, functioning human again.

And it felt good.

Now that we were about halfway through the trip, I was beginning to think that Ashley had been right.

I’d just needed to get away.

Not that I’d ever admit that out loud.

Counting the rows to my spot, one less than the day before, I claimed the window seat, storing my bag at my feet, and smiled as people filed on.

Good Lord. I was handing out chipper “good mornings’ as if I were the unofficial bus morale captain. Even I had to admit that it was a little much.

Especially considering half the group looked like they’d crawled out of a wine barrel this morning.

But hey, I’d paced myself last night. Hydrated. Slept.

For once, I’d made good choices.

I might have been enjoying that a little too much.

Patty, looking a little green, did a double-take as she slid into the seat in front of me. “Well, don’t you look fresh-faced and fancy. Where’s quiet, sulky Luna?”

Ouch. I hadn’t been sulky, had I?

Okay. I had. But that was over. Today. I was done feeling sorry for myself.

“Sulky Luna?” I asked lightly. “What do you mean?”

Denise, right behind her, narrowed her eyes as she took her seat. “You’re smiling? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Luna?”

I could already tell, this was gonna get old real fast.

Babs, Morty’s hat slightly askew and her hair as fluffy as ever, ambled down the aisle and plopped into the seat across the aisle. She’d been spending so much time with Mrs. Grady lately, you’d think they were lifelong besties.

Which may have been Babs’s goal from the start.

With her, it was hard to tell.

Maybe she genuinely enjoyed Mrs. Grady’s company.

Maybe I’d been a little grumpier than I’d realized the past few days and scared off the nicest person on the bus.

Or maybe Babs was playing some long game, claiming Mrs. Grady’s attentions so that Noah was freed up—like a stealthy little matchmaker in orthopedic sandals.

Honestly, all of the above felt equally possible.

But because I was turning over a new leaf this morning, I refrained from calling her out. “Are you ready to check off the next item on the bucket list?” I asked.

“You better believe it.” She winked, because, of course, even hungover, Babs would remain as perky as ever. “What about you?”

“Of course.” Although in all the prep I’d done that morning, I hadn’t actually consulted the itinerary. Which was fine.

I mean, up until The Incident , I’d always enjoyed surprises.

Oddly enough, it was fun. Being seen. Being teased. Being part of something again.

And I didn’t really hate it.

I didn’t hate the sight of Noah climbing onto the bus, either.

He looked a little worse for wear—slightly wrinkled Henley, familiar jeans, baseball cap pulled low, hiding behind his aviators. His shoulders slouched just enough to suggest that the beer in last night’s picture hadn’t been the only one.

He peeked over his sunglasses. He hadn’t shaved, and even with his shades, I could see shadows under his eyes. But despite everything…

Yeah. He still looked annoyingly good.

“Grumpy Girl,” he said as he paused beside our row, his voice deliciously rough.

We were back to that, were we?

“Aisle Seat Guy.” I watched him ease into the seat beside me, his long legs stretching into the aisle. “You’re really tall, you know?”

He grumbled a little. “You just noticed?”

I didn’t even try holding back my giggles.

Because for once, I wasn’t the one needing coddling. “Late night?”

“Let’s just say this morning came way too early,” he muttered. “Only reason I made it down was the horror of being left behind. Mom would kill me.”

He dropped his backpack to the floor, slipped his glasses off, and leaned back, When he tipped his head my way, his eyes met mine. “You warned me…so go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you told me so.”

Huh. Was it weird that I wasn’t used to people telling me I’d been right about something?

I shook my head. “No judgment here. I’ve been that person.”

“Still,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Could’ve used a gallon of coffee.”

Without thinking, I held out my cup, still mostly full. “You need this more than I do.”

He paused. “Black?”

“Sugar and cream. Perfect ratio, thank you very much.”

He winced but took the cup without hesitation. After the first sip, he made a sound that was half sigh, half groan. “Damn. That tastes like heaven.”

I smiled, too proud of myself to think before I spoke. “Like me.”

His eyebrows lifted over the rim of the cup, but instead of laughing or teasing, he just held my gaze, slow. Deliberate. “Noted,” he said.

My stomach did a little flip, and I glanced away, hearing the door up front close with a hiss.

As the bus rumbled to life and pulled away from the hotel, I leaned my forehead against the window.

I’d flirted with him.

He’d definitely flirted back.

Watching the outskirts of Grand Junction blur past—gas stations and motels turning to open highway surrounded by strangely barren-looking plains and hills—I knew, without a doubt, that this time I wasn’t imagining it.

And it was fun.

Fun was good.

I could handle fun.

Probably.

While I came to terms with something that shouldn’t feel like such a life-altering realization, Tay’s voice crackled overhead.

“Rise and shine, my beautiful band of travelers!” she chirped. “Hope everyone’s feeling well-rested and hydrated this morning, because today’s adventure includes hard hats, hashbrowns, and”—she paused dramatically—“absolutely no wine.”

There were a few groggy groans and sheepish chuckles at that.

Noah turned to me, both eyebrows raised. “What all did I miss last night?”

“Suffice it to say the PDA between Ed and Eddie got worse at each winery.”

“More than what I saw on Josie’s Facebook Live?”

I squeezed my eyes closed. “I saw senior-citizen tongue.”

“I think we all did,” Tay called back from the front.

She didn’t miss a beat, though, as she continued her announcement.

“I might have to start calling this the Love Bus! Anyhoo… Moving on, we’re scheduled to pull into Ouray around oh-nine-hundred hours, and we’re kicking off the day with a real-deal mine tour.

That’s right! You’ll descend into the belly of the earth, walk the old tunnels, see original equipment, and the best part?

You’ll be served a Miner’s Breakfast underground.

Eggs, pancakes, sausage—the works. No pickaxe required. ”

“And since it’s a brisk fifty-two degrees inside the mine, year-round, I hope you’re all wearing something warm,” Tay added.

I glanced down at my bare legs. “Am I seriously dressed wrong again?” I muttered.

Noah’s gaze dipped, his eyes lingering before returning to mine. “Not from where I’m sitting,” he said, voice low and even.

If he kept looking at me like that, I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping warm.

Tay continued, “Estimated arrival: just under two hours. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride… But not too much.” Tay looked very pointedly at Ed and Eddie.

Another ripple of laughter moved through the bus.

I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips, though the reason for my good mood was entirely separate from our plans for the day or Tay’s little joking tangents.

Because even if I had, once again, dressed for the wrong climate…

I knew I was sitting in the right seat.