Side Trip(24)

He knew they’d come for him.

And tonight he feels the rush he’s always been able to resist. A rush he’s always wanted to resist. Until now.

He told Chase he’d catch a ride later, hire a cab, or hitch a ride from a friendly festivalgoer. He wants alone time. He wants to stop thinking about Joy and all the what-ifs. He wants to punish himself for screwing up.

He needs to fucking purge her from his system.

He drinks a beer, then another and another. He ignores that the alcohol content is higher over here. By his fifth he can barely walk a straight line and stumbles between two women dancing together.

Hello, girls.

He smiles at them.

They invite him into their fold. They laugh and they sing, and their hands explore him. They’re in his hair, on his lower back, his upper thigh, inside his shirt. They glide over his heated skin. He’s on fire for a woman he can’t have.

One woman presses her body against his backside, the other against his front. They encourage him to dance. Okay, he’ll bite.

He looks down into the face of the woman running her palms up his chest and all he can think is gorgeous. He draws his arms around her waist and sways with her. She doesn’t feel right in his arms. She doesn’t look at him the right way, not the way he needs.

Not the way Joy would.

He thinks of Joy and imagines her with Mark. He pictures her in Mark’s arms, his bed, with him for the rest of her life.

Dylan’s embrace tightens, almost brutally. The woman squeaks. His hands slide down and grasp the woman’s ass, fitting her snugly against him. She moans, tilting her face up to the stars.

He needs to get Joy out of his head, and the only way he sees how is to drown in someone else.

Hands slide up his spine.

Make that two someone elses.

He kisses the woman in his arms. He twists his neck and kisses the other woman. And later, when the music stops, he takes them back to his room.

Because temptation is bliss and he no longer gives a fuck about regret.





CHAPTER 10





BEFORE


Joy

Grand Canyon to Marble Canyon, Arizona

“This is insane,” Joy vocalized out loud to no one in particular. Her day was not turning out as she’d meticulously planned, and she only had herself to blame.

Last night she had spent close to an hour plotting her route and studying the highway’s topography. Road hazards? Manageable. Bends, merging lanes, and straightaways? Memorized. Now here she was, ready to toss those out the convertible roof for a possible route deviation to who knows where with a guy she met only yesterday. All for a small taste of adventure.

Do something you’ve always wanted to do. Her, not Judy.

Joy had been looking forward to seeing the Grand Canyon. Judy had talked about her desire to visit on numerous occasions. She’d studied the area in geography class and showed Joy the photos in her textbook. Her parents had planned a family camping trip here the summer before Judy was supposed to leave for college. They never made it.

Joy had thought she’d feel less remorseful about the missed opportunity by honoring Judy with a visit to the lookout featured in a textbook photo that had fueled her sister’s interest. But just a glimpse of the sprawling canyon with the surreal coloring had stricken Joy with grief. And she was getting so tired of feeling sad all the time, which was why it was imperative that she finish the bucket list, and every other list in Judy’s box. Once she did, Joy could believe that Judy would have forgiven her for the mistakes she’d made. Maybe Joy could find the strength to forgive herself.

“Can I get you anything else?” the waiter asked, refilling her water glass.

“Just the check, please.” Joy gave him Dylan’s credit card, deliberating on whether she should walk out and drive away before Dylan returned. She had the car keys in her pocket. He, though, had her phone. He also had his paper map in his back pocket. She couldn’t even get a jump on searching the surrounding area’s network of roads and highways to put her mind at ease before she drove to wherever they were going. Driving any unplanned route made her nervous, especially since she had a passenger.

Joy propped her elbows on the tabletop and dropped her face in her hands. She groaned, conflicted. Yes, she wanted to go on Dylan’s side trip. No, she wasn’t going to abandon him at the Grand Canyon. Yes, she was aware that what she was doing—driving with a stranger, trusting him—was dangerous. No, she wasn’t going to call Mark, or Taryn, or her parents to talk some sense into her.

Admittedly, completing Judy’s bucket list so that she could get to Mark sooner wasn’t the only reason she agreed to drive Dylan across country. She was lonely. But she still didn’t want Mark to accompany her, she thought guiltily, twisting the bulky engagement ring back and forth. She and Mark had history. Dylan was a clean slate. He wouldn’t judge. There was nothing to forgive. And when they did part ways, there was nothing to lose. No one would get hurt.

A family of three at a square table beside hers drew her attention. A young girl with blonde hair picked at her hamburger. Her parents sat on either side, gazes on their plates and not each other. Across from her, an empty seat, as if a piece of the family was missing. Their unit incomplete, broken. They reminded Joy of her family.

Joy dreaded dinnertime during the weeks following the accident. She hated staring at the empty space across the table. Every night she had to face her costly mistake while picking at her food because she couldn’t taste her meal. The taste of shame and guilt overpowered the flavors of every casserole their neighbors dropped off.