Chapter 2
ROMY
"Are you always like this?" he asked.
"Like what?"
"Pacing. You need to chill. The jam'll clear and you'll be out of here before you know it."
It wasn't the jam I was worried about anymore.
Or the car. It was the pressure building behind my navel like a water balloon stretched to its limit.
I needed to pee. Desperately. And where exactly was I supposed to do that?
Stuck on a bridge, hemmed in by cars and, worse, a truck with a bird's-eye view straight into my back seat.
Which, on any other day, would've been the most private place available.
Even if I could find some privacy in there… what would I pee into? My water bottle? The opening was the width of a coin. It was my only option.
I was ready to empty it on the road when I had a thought.
"Do you think we should check the radiator?" I said. "Maybe put some of my water in it."
"Yeah, pop the hood."
I reached in and pulled the lever. He lifted the hood and leaned over the engine like he'd done it a thousand times, checking the coolant reservoir first. He waited a beat, letting the worst of the pressure bleed off, then twisted the radiator cap slowly with his palm pressed over the bottom of his shirt.
The sharp hiss of steam releasing made me wince.
"Yeah, it's low," he said. "You got that water?"
I handed him my bottle. He unscrewed it and poured it in slowly, watching the level rise. Every drop of water I watched disappear was both a solution and a new problem. The bottle was empty now, and I had something to hold my pee.
But how was I going to aim into that narrow opening without making a catastrophic mess?
Every good thought led to a new disaster, and I could feel the panic rising like a tide.
I did my breathing. In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. Then again. It wasn't working. I paced to the back of the car, pressing my thighs together with each step.
Rush appeared beside me. "Is there anything I can do?"
"With what?" I said, too quickly.
"To help you calm down. You're getting a little worked up and it's really all going to be okay."
"I need to pee," I blurted out.
That was it. No filter. No dignity. Just the raw truth of a woman at the breaking point. Maybe he'd have the solution to this too since he seemed to have one for everything else.
He looked around and assessed the situation, then said, "Do it in the car."
"On the floor?"
"What? No. Into something."
I glanced up at the truck. "What about him?"
"I'll talk to him."
"And say what?"
"That the lady needs a piss and he's not allowed to look. I’ll tell him to get out of his cab."
"And if he won't?"
"I'll drag him out and it'll be him pissing himself."
I started to laugh and that only made it worse… so much worse. I shoved my hand between my legs and squeezed my thighs together to stop the impending disaster.
"I don't have anything to pee into," I told him. The water bottle’s neck was too narrow. It would be everywhere.
Without missing a beat, he walked to his bike, reached into the saddlebag, and pulled out a wide-mouthed water container. He unscrewed the big cap.
This could work. I could actually do this.
Then I saw it was full.
"It's full," I said, hearing the desperation in my own voice.
He tipped it upside down and poured the entire thing onto the road. I groaned at the sound of the splash hitting asphalt as the water ran under my car.
He heard it and realized what he'd done. "Sorry. My bad."
He shoved the empty container into my hands and headed for the truck.
I stood there, legs crossed, container clutched to my chest, and watched him bang on the truck door. Seconds later, the big trucker climbed down from his cab. He was a bear of a man in a flannel shirt. He gave me a nod like this was perfectly normal, and the two of them turned their backs.
I scrambled into the back seat and pulled the door shut. I hiked my skirt up and pulled my underwear down. Positioned the container and…
Oh my god.
The relief. The absolute, bone-deep, soul-saving relief. I could have cried. I think I might have whimpered. I peed and peed and started getting genuinely concerned that this container might not be big enough as I watched the level rise with increasing alarm. Mercifully, it stopped just in time.
Then came the logistics. I carefully pulled my underwear back up while holding the container steady. One wrong move and this whole operation would be for nothing. I rearranged my skirt and checked myself. Then I crawled back out of the car holding it in front of me like a warm chalice of shame.
"I'm done," I told them.
They already knew. The grunting and groaning of me extracting myself from the back seat wasn't exactly subtle. But they waited for my cue to turn. Gentlemen. Both of them.
When they faced me, they were barely holding back their smiles. The trucker didn't hide where his eyes went, though. Up and down my body with zero shame. What could I say? He'd done me a solid. I supposed he'd earned a look.
"Thanks," I told them both.
The trucker gave me another nod and turned to climb back into his cab. I held the container out to Rush.
He laughed. "Never had a woman hand me a bottle of pee before."
I blushed so hard I felt it in my ears. Thank god the trucker was already hauling himself back up into his cab and out of earshot.
Rush looked into the container before screwing the cap back on. "You really did have to go.”
"Mm-hmm," I muttered. Because how else do you respond to something like that from a hot guy you've just met and been having filthy thoughts about?
At least he wasn't pissed off.
I might never recover from this.
The trucker leaned out his window and yelled, "Hey!"
I was leaning against my car. Rush was sitting sideways on his bike, facing me. We both looked up.
"They're moving again up ahead," the trucker called down.
"Thanks, bro," Rush replied.
"Thank you," I said, and the trucker smiled.
"My pleasure."
I climbed into my car and turned the key.
Nothing.
I cranked it again. The engine wheezed like a dying animal and gave up.
I knew this would happen. I knew it in my bones the second I turned it off.
When it got hot, it needed a cooldown period or it simply refused to perform.
And when it did that, I was the one who started steaming. Every. Fucking. Time.
All those promises Jeremy made. I'll look at it this weekend, babe. I'll take it to the shop next week. It's probably just a sensor, don't stress. And here I was. Stranded again, because he never followed through on a single goddamn thing.
The cars ahead were already creeping forward. Space was opening up and I was dead in the water.
I could feel the heat rising. Not from the engine this time but from somewhere deep inside my chest. A pressure cooker of shame and fury.
I was the one who would be blocking the traffic.
All these people behind me… dozens of them, maybe more…
including the lovely trucker who'd turned his back while I pissed into a bottle.
They'd waited in this heat for the first incident to clear, and now I was going to be the second one.
I jumped out of the car, tears already building, and got right in Rush's face before I could stop myself.
"It won't start." My voice was higher than I wanted it to be. “I knew this would happen. It won’t start, and all those people...” I pointed behind us, my hand shaking. “...are going to be furious.” And I don't blame them."
Rush had his finger up, trying to get a word in, but I was on a panic-roll. The words were falling out of me like I'd tipped over.
"They're all going to be stuck here and it's all my fault. Fucking Jeremy. Fucking useless piece of shit. It's his fault. He should have fucking fixed it. I should have fixed it. I should have…”
I pulled out my phone.
"Are you calling your ex?" Rush said.
"Yes, I'm calling him. This is his fucking problem. He needs to fucking fix it."
I didn't usually swear that much. I was the polite one.
The composed one. The one who smiled through the disappointment and said it's fine when it wasn't. But something about today…
the heat, the jam, the piss in a bottle, the fucking fish text…
had cracked something open. I was letting out all the anger and frustration I'd been pushing to the back of the shelf for far too long, and it was pouring out ugly and loud and I didn't care.
Rush grabbed me, softly with both of his hands on my shoulders. He looked into my eyes and said:
"I've got this."
I blinked as the tears spilled over.
"Take a breath. I'll be back in a sec and everything will be all right."
I wanted to argue and tell him he couldn't possibly fix this. That Jeremy couldn't fix it and he'd had months. That the car was a lemon and I was an idiot and the people behind us were going to start honking any second and…
But something in his voice stopped me. He'd already saved me once today. He was calm and completely in control. Like chaos was just weather to him. Something to ride through.
"You good?" he asked.
"Not really."
"You're good," he told me. Not a question this time. A statement. "You'll see. Now wait here. Back soon."
He walked to the truck with an unhurried stride, like the entire bridge wasn't about to turn into a war zone behind us. He said something to the trucker I couldn't hear. The trucker nodded. Then laughed. Then nodded again.
Rush came back and stood in front of me with the second plan of the day already written across his face.
"Here's what's happening," he said. "Big man's going to nudge up behind you. He’ll put his bumper to yours and push you off the bridge. There's a gas station just past the lake exit. We'll roll you in there, let the engine cool, and get you taken care of."
I stared at him. "He'll do that?"
"Already said yes."
"What about his schedule? He must have somewhere?—"
"He's good. Trust me."
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. My mascara had to be everywhere. I probably looked like a raccoon who'd been crying in a sauna.
And this man… this stranger in black leather who I'd refused to even open my door for thirty minutes ago was solving every single problem I threw at him without breaking a sweat.
"Okay," I said. "Okay."
"Get in," he said. "Neutral. Foot off the brake until you need to steer. I'll ride beside you."
I nodded and climbed back in. My hands were still shaking, but less now. The trucker's engine rumbled louder behind me, and I felt the gentlest nudge against my rear bumper.
And then I was moving.