Page 78 of The Love Bus

The same girl who’d been afraid of a few ghosts, afraid to stare out the bus window, was now standing in front of a camera, talking to strangers like they were old friends.

She was coming into herself. And she hadn’t waited for permission.

And God, that hit somewhere deep.

Maybe it was time.

Maybe she’d had enough space.

Maybe…she was ready to choose.

The cursor hovered over the About tab on her channel, where I knew her business email was listed. And I was trying to figure out what the hell I could say that wouldn’t make me sound like an idiot?—

When my phone rang.

Mom .

I hesitated. Then swiped to answer. “Hey.”

“Noah, darling. How are you?”

“I’m…” I paused, buying time. “Good.”

“Good,” she echoed, like she wasn’t convinced.

“I was thinking it might be nice to have a little barbecue this weekend. Nothing big.” Her voice was easy—too easy. “I invited Courtney. She’s, uh bringing someone new. A man. I just wanted to check…make sure you’re okay with that.”

I leaned back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. That was how she was going to play it. Like Vegas hadn’t happened. Like dragging my ex-wife into that mess was a well-meaning gesture that had just gotten…misinterpreted.

And Luna had stumbled right into it…

I exhaled hard.

At least now, it seemed like mom finally understood that Courtney and I were never getting back together. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

It was about damn time.

“Good for her,” I said, and I meant it. “And no—I don’t mind. But…I’m actually heading out of town.”

The words were out before I’d even realized I’d made up my mind.

“Oh?” she asked. “Where to?”

“Matunuck Beach.” I scratched absently at my knee. “See what the waves are like. I haven’t done much surfing this summer.”

The phone went silent, and then, “Doesn’t that girl from the tour live down there?”

I was a little surprised she knew that much. “You mean Luna?” I asked, sharp enough that I was sure she caught it. “Yeah. I might look her up.”

Another pause.

“Have you…talked to her?”

“No.”

And then I felt it. An ominous hesitation.

“I…I need to tell you something,” she said finally.

“Okay…” I set my beer can down, mentally bracing for whatever the hell she’d done. Ever since that stunt she’d pulled…

“That day in Vegas. When Courtney showed up—” She stopped. She didn’t need to finish. She knew exactly how I’d felt about that.

“You have to know, Noah, that I’m always thinking of your best interest,” she went on. “And when she came to my room looking for you?—”

“ She ?” My voice dropped.

“The restaurant girl.”

“You mean Luna? When did Luna go to your room?”

“Right after she met…Courtney. And I may have…told her things to make her think that…you and Courtney were reuniting.”

My jaw locked. For a second, I thought I misheard her. I wish I’d misheard her.

And yet, I knew that I hadn’t.

“What. Things?” My voice came out cold. Hard.

“I told her you were getting champagne. To celebrate. I just thought, maybe, if you and Courtney could spend some time alone together in such a romantic city, that?—”

“Vegas isn’t romantic,” I snapped.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now , does it? The magic didn’t come back, and Courtney’s moved on. You’re free. It worked out, didn’t it?”

I heard a high-pitched buzzing in my ears.

On top of everything else to hit her that day, she’d thought I’d betrayed her too.

“Jesus, Mom.” And then, “ What the fuck , Mom?”

“Don’t be mad. I tried liking her—on the train that day—but she just seemed so…flighty. And I saw that video, the one where she broke up with her fiancé, and now… Did you know he doesn’t even have a show anymore? She’s practically ruined him. I was protecting you, sweetheart.”

“ What. The. Fuck? Mom .” I rubbed at the space between my eyes, remembering every passive dig she’d made about Luna on the trip. I’d asked her to be nicer. I’d believed her when she said she would.

I hadn’t realized my own mother would ever…

What. The. Fuck?

It was a damn good thing she was telling me this over the phone. Because in that moment…

“You know I love you,” I said. Deep breath. “But interfering in my life like this… Lying to someone I care about. Interfering... That was… ” I couldn’t even finish it. Couldn’t say unforgivable .

But the silence said it for me.

I hated—hated—hurting my mom’s feelings, but… “I need to go.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“But Noah, I was just?—"

I hung up.

She was my mom. But she was going to have to make some changes.

And right now, I didn’t want to hear her apology.

I needed to talk to Luna.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, closing my eyes, my mind racing.

Remembering everything.

Not only those amazing nights at the Grand Canyon.

Not just her hands on my chest or the way her eyes fluttered closed when I kissed the corner of her mouth.

I remembered the very first time I saw her. When she’d looked at me like I was the reason for all her problems. Grumpy. Frazzled.

Cute as hell. Like an angry chihuahua.

Then I’d gotten on that damn tour bus, and there she was again. Same wild hair. Same guarded stare.

But as the trip went on, I kept seeing it—how even when she had nothing left to give, she still did.

Giving up her massage in Glenwood Springs without a second thought.

Chasing after some old hat in the middle of the desert in those ridiculous little sandals.

It wasn’t about the hat. It was about the way she cared.

Instinctively. Fiercely. Even when it cost her.

God help me, I hadn’t stood a chance.

By the time I finally kissed her under that waterfall, I was planning my life around the sound of her laugh.

And by Vegas?

I was in love with her. Yeah. God damn it, I loved her.

Even knowing she was fresh off a breakup. Even knowing how stupid it was to fall for someone who was still bleeding from the last one.

But I couldn’t help it.

She was chaos and comfort wrapped in one sunburned, opinionated, open-hearted package.

I’d been waiting. Trying to give her time.

But…if she’d believed my mom that day, I needed to do some serious damage-control.

Like now.

I flew off the couch, stuffed some clothes into a duffle bag, and, after making sure Pippa was, in fact, with my next-door neighbor, practically ran to my car.

Throughout the trip, she’d claimed not to be brave, while all along, I’d been the coward, the one to hesitate, the one holding back.

But now?

It was time for me to take a chance, to make a decision. To get on board.

I could only hope like hell she let me climb on. And maybe—just maybe—she’d saved me a seat.