Page 7 of The Love Bus

I mean, they’d loved each other, as far as I knew, they’d gotten married, had kids, and gone on to be… content-ever-after.

Until Dad died.

I swallowed hard. Because I still missed him. Of course, I did. Even if Mom was apparently coasting along just fine.

I capped my mascara and stepped back to check my reflection.

The makeup made my eyes look bigger, and the swipe of lip gloss brought a little life back to my face.

My skin still looked a bit tired, but at least I didn’t resemble someone who’d spent the last few weeks avoiding daylight and living on Pop-Tarts.

I looked…not amazing, but decent. Like someone who might actually pass for human.

Even if I didn’t feel it.

The heroine was laughing now, her hair artfully mussed as she twirled in the rain with her knight in shining armor.

I frowned.

Fiction. It was all fiction. Click. Enough of that.

Grabbing my room key, I squared my shoulders, gave myself a little pep talk about “adventure” and “new experiences,” and headed for the elevator.

The pep talk, I realized, was in Ashley’s voice.

As I stepped through the metal doors and into the lobby, I was greeted by what felt like a wall of noise. A small crowd had already begun to gather off to the side, and their overlapping voices echoed off the tiles in a discordant roar.

I wandered across to an empty corner, hugging my arms in front of me and trying to stay out of the way. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long before a loud greeting cut through the din.

“Welcome, everyone!” Clap, clap. “If you’re with WonderWorld Tours, gather around and listen up!”

The woman in faded jeans and a logoed T-shirt had everyone’s attention the moment she spoke.

Her hair was platinum blond, woven into two practical braids that, along with her bright eyes and lively presence, reminded me of a camp counselor. I would have guessed that she was only maybe a few years older than me, if any.

“My name is Taylor Lawson, but you guys can call me ‘Tay’ and I’m going to be your tour guide for the next twelve days!

” Her tone was just perky enough to feel rehearsed as she gestured for the group to gather closer.

“Not everyone’s arrived quite yet, but I wanted to go over a few things while we’re all here.

First things first, if you haven’t checked in with me, make sure to do so before heading out tonight.

I’ll need to make sure we have everyone accounted for before tomorrow morning. ”

She paused, scanning the group with a polished smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“As you all know,” Tay continued. “This is WonderWorld Tours’ Southwest Bucket List Adventure, which means we’ll be covering a lot of ground—both figuratively and literally.

And since this part of the country is all about higher altitudes, it’s important to stay hydrated.

Denver is the Mile High City, sitting at five thousand two hundred and eighty feet above sea level, but some of the places we’ll be visiting are twice that.

Alcohol hits harder at altitude, so if you’re planning to enjoy a cocktail or two, take it easy.

Trust me—you don’t want to be that person on the bus tomorrow morning. ”

A few chuckles rippled through the group. The guide paused to let them die down.

“See, I told you, Ed.” The woman from the matching Hawaiian-shirt couple nudged her husband with an affectionate smirk.

“You know I’m built like a tank, Eddie, my love.” He gave her a little squeeze.

Matching outfits and matching names?

“In all seriousness.” Tay frowned. “Pay attention to how your body feels, especially over the next few days. Dizziness, headaches, nausea—those can all be signs of altitude sickness. Drink plenty of water, pace yourself, and let me or someone else know if you’re not feeling well. This isn’t something to push through.”

Leaning against the wall, I scanned the group and realized…not one person was even close to my age. Most looked around my mom’s age. A few were older.

I didn’t mind older people. Honestly, I loved them. My gran had been my favorite person in the world, and even now, twelve years after she passed, just thinking about her left an ache in my chest.

But also, back home, I mean, when Mr. Calloway was in one of his better moods, I actually liked him. And not just because his dog was such a sweetheart, but for the occasional tidbits of advice he surprised me with.

Then there was Finn, who ran Foster’s Fish Market down on the docks—a weathered, cedar-shingled storefront that had been in his family for three generations.

In exchange for some of my grandmother’s recipes, every Tuesday and Thursday, without fail, he’d set aside the best catch of the day, and always tossed in a story or two, just because.

So no, that wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t the age gap or even the group dynamic. It was that none of these people—strangers, every last one of them—mattered.

Not really.

Because I wasn’t here to make friends. I was here to disappear.

And as long as no one recognized me, as long as I could keep my head down and play the part of just another quiet face on a bus, I’d be fine.

I returned my attention to Tay’s welcoming speech.

“…coat because the temperatures can change in just a matter of minutes. And if there aren’t any questions, I’ll see all of you bright and early, right here in the lobby tomorrow morning at seven hundred hours sharp.

Our schedule is tight, and if you’re late, don’t expect the rest of us to wait for you. Got it?”

There was a flurry of generally assenting murmurs, and then Tay clapped her hands together again.

“Good. Oh, and a quick heads-up,” she added, her smile tightening slightly.

“Our regular driver wasn’t able to make it due to a last-minute scheduling issue, but this shouldn’t cause any delays for us.

The company has assured me we’ll have a new driver here at dawn.

Until then,” Tay continued, spreading her hands as though wrapping up a sales pitch, “relax, introduce yourselves, and enjoy the evening. I’ll be available for the next thirty minutes if you have any questions. ”

Yikes.

What had I gotten myself into?

The thought of being up and ready to travel at…seven hundred hours? It felt like a personal attack. Despite the two-hour time difference.

I hadn’t exactly been keeping regular hours lately.

I blew a stray piece of hair out of my face with an irritated puff of air.

I probably should have expected as much. This was my mom’s trip, after all. It was too late to back out now. I was already here, and everything was paid for; all I had to do was go through the motions.

Follow the schedule.

And hey, I’d managed to survive the flight over here—sort of, anyway. I would survive this too.