Chapter 17 - Nicole
Nicole
I showed up at Landon’s apartment with my bag packed and my mind already halfway out of Texas.
I knocked once, bounced on the balls of my feet, then knocked again for good measure.
When the door opened, he stood there in a Surge hoodie and gym shorts, hair still doing that unruly morning thing like it hadn’t been formally introduced to gravity yet.
He blinked at me, then at the duffel slung over my shoulder. Then at the makeup bag in my other hand.
“Are you moving in?” he asked, voice scratchy with sleep, “because I think that’s a little excessive when you can just have your water heater fixed.”
“Good morning, Landon,” I said, stepping past him without waiting for an invitation. His apartment smelled like coffee and clean laundry, which felt unfair for how early it was. “You’re on a bye, right?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, turning to follow me as I dropped my bags near the couch. “Why? And seriously, what’s with the bags?”
I spun to face him, grinning. “How do you feel about Little Rock, Arkansas?”
“I feel… geographically aware of it.”
“Funny, but I want you to come with me,” I said, holding back about two percent of my total excitement. “Since, you know, you were instrumental in me finally tracking it down and all that. You should be there. I’d like for you to be there. I’m rambling, sorry, it’s early. What do you say?”
“When?”
“Today.”
His mouth dropped open. “As in, we’re getting on a plane today?”
I shook my head firmly. “This is a pilgrimage, and you can’t fly on a pilgrimage. It should be intentional, special.”
“It’s an especially intentional ten hour drive.” He sounded like a man doing the math against his will. “Ten. Hours.”
“And some change,” I said cheerfully. “Depending on traffic. But that’s why I wanted us to leave early so we could get a jump on it.”
He dragged a hand down his face and padded through to flop on his couch. “You are unhinged. It’s official. My neighbor is a crazy person.”
“Correct,” I said. “But she’s also one signed helmet away from the collection of her dreams.”
An incredulous laugh bubbled out of him then. “I’ll book flights. I’ve got miles. We can be there and back in time for dinner and a movie, which is what you’ll owe me for talking sense into your head.”
“No.”
“Nicole—”
“No,” I repeated. “I’ve been looking for this thing for years. Years. You don’t just appear in Arkansas and leave with it. You earn it. You drive. You eat bad gas station snacks. You listen to questionable road trip playlists. This is how it’s done.”
He watched me for a long moment, something like admiration creeping into his expression whether he liked it or not.
“You really want to do this?”
“Yes.”
“With me.”
“Yes.”
Another pause. Then a slow grin. “You’re serious.”
“Deadly.”
He shook his head, laughing under his breath. “A last-minute, ten-hour road trip. This is insane.”
“Hopelessly,” I said. “So?”
He glanced toward his bedroom, then back at me. “Give me five minutes. I gotta throw some stuff in a bag.”
I punched the air, beside myself with excitement as he disappeared into his bedroom.
*
The highway rolled out before us in a ribbon of gray, sunlight turning everything gold against the windshield.
I had my bag at my feet, snacks within reach, and a cooler wedged between us.
Landon kept looking over, smirking like he was trying not to laugh at how wound up I was about staying on schedule.
“Careful coming up on that exit,” I said.
“I see it,” he replied, voice clipped, eyes locked on the road. He didn’t need me reminding him.
We fell into a rhythm fast enough that the first hour disappeared without notice—me scrolling playlists, him muttering about volume levels.
I vetoed more than a few songs, and he sulked like a kid who’d lost his favorite toy.
Eventually, we compromised with rock-paper-scissors. It was a silly system, but it worked.
A couple of hours in, nature demanded attention.
“Landon… uh, can you pull over?”
He glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “Pull over? What’s wrong? Car sick?”
“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Just… pull over.”
“But we’re making good time. We’re not supposed to swap for another hour.”
He was talking, but I barely heard him. My cheeks warmed. “I… just do it, okay?”
“How about I crack a win—?”
“We’re forty minutes from the next gas station, and I can’t hold it anymore. Happy?” I groaned, sinking deeper into the passenger seat.
“Wait. You mean… you need to pee?”
“Yes!” I hissed, and my face grew hotter. “I— ugh! Can we just stop, please?”
He laughed, a full, teasing chuckle that made it all worse. “You’re fine to barge into my apartment in nothing but a towel and commandeer my shower, but now you’re suddenly shy about needing to pee?”
I glared at him with my thighs squeezed tightly together in a last ditch attempt to preserve some dignity. “Should we talk some more about things that absolutely don’t matter, or are you fine to pull over now?”
“Okay, okay, geez,” he said, slowing the car. “But for the record, this is hilarious and I won’t be shutting up about it.”
“One mention of this and you’ll pay the price,” I muttered, practically bouncing in my seat.
He laughed, shaking his head. “Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever you say, hotshot. We’re stopping here.”
I flung the door open before the car had fully stopped, and darted toward a nearby patch of trees and bushes that offered enough cover.
“Don’t look!” I yelled over my shoulder as I vanished behind them.
“I am not looking,” he called back, still chuckling. “Not that I can see anything behind all those leaves. Although, if I tilt my head and squint through those two branches—”
“Landon!” My voice carried no real threat as I relieved myself and not even the sound of his distant laughter could interrupt my stream.
Landon grinned as I slid into the seat, his eyes trained on my shoes. “Not a wayward splash in sight. I’m in the company of a pro, I see.”
“Bite me.” I threw him a look that would have been deadly if not for the corners of his mouth tugging up into a smirk.
“I’d love to, but after you’ve had a shower,” he said, buckling up again.
I rolled my eyes, but bit back a laugh of my own.
A few hours on the road, and already, the little mishaps, the teasing, and him laughing at me had settled into this easy kind of rhythm.
Something about being stuck in this together, ridiculous moments and all, made it feel like it was just us, the road, and these long stretches of time that somehow sped and slowed at the same time.
We drove through late morning, the sunlight getting harsher, bouncing off the asphalt and warming the dashboard.
We’d been on the road long enough for my legs to cramp.
Every so often, Landon switched places with me, letting me stretch behind the wheel while he leaned back, hands behind his head, pretending he wasn’t exhausted from the early start.
I couldn’t stop glancing at him. He had this way of being casually in command of the car, the road, and somehow everything else, too.
Then, as we hit the final stretch, another unplanned hiccup upset the schedule. Flapping rubber cycled beneath the car, and I slowed down, carefully coming to a stop on the side of the road.
“Sounds like a flat.”
He straightened in his seat, looking as though I’d summoned him to deliver a baby. “I… I don’t—”
“You don’t know how to change a tire?” I was already jumping out and grabbing the jack from the trunk. “Step aside, rookie. Watch and learn.”
“I can help,” he offered, crouching beside me.
“Not much to help with.”
“I’m not useless,” he protested, kneeling down but clearly unsure where to put his hands.
“Yeah, you’re really helping,” I said, grabbing the lug wrench and turning it with more force than strictly necessary. “But you can stick around and keep me company. You know, decorate the space with your dashing good looks.”
“I am decorative,” he shot back, grinning despite himself. “And highly valuable.”
I scoffed and gave the wrench another turn. “Valuable for what? Just sitting there looking confused?”
“I’m contributing morale,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Beautiful sentiment, but morale doesn’t tighten lug nuts,” I said, snapping one loose with a satisfying click.
He leaned a little too close as I slid the spare into position. My foot slipped on the gravel, and suddenly I was toppling sideways.
Landon was useless with tires, but quick to react. He yanked me up before I hit the ground, and I found myself cradled in his careful embrace, gazing into his eyes.
He swallowed hard. “That was close.”
“Yeah.” My heart was about to pound clean out of my chest.
Peeling myself off him, I backed up and planted my feet firmly on the ground. “Don’t think this gets you off the hook. If you’re giving me shit about roadside bathroom breaks, it’s only fair you never forget how you made a girl change your tire.”
“First of all, it’s your tire, and second of all, emotional support is just as important as every other kind.” He handed me a socket when I needed a wrench.
But that was the extent of the misfires for the duration of securing the spare, and we were ready to go in only a few minutes.
“Not bad,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat.
He climbed in beside me, eyes still locked on mine as he started the engine. “Side note, in the spirit of full disclosure: I’m still completely and utterly useless with tools.”
“Spoiler alert: I know.”
Our laughter mixed with the radio and he merged back onto the highway, the sun moving closer to the horizon. I caught him stealing a glance at me from the corner of his eye, a little shy, a lot smug, and my stomach turned in that way it always did around him.