Page 207 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

I just hope it all works out well…

We stop once along the way for coffee and gas, the kind of place that smells of burnt espresso and old road trips and hundreds of people passing through.

Rex leans against the counter like he’s been there a thousand times before, flashing the girl behind it a smile that turns her cheeks pink.

“Darlin’, you just saved my life,” he tells her when she hands over his coffee.

She laughs, flustered, and I roll my eyes as we head back out.

“You say that to everyone,” I tell him.

He looks at me like I’ve personally offended him. “Absolutely not. Only to people who provide essential services.”

“Like coffee?”

“Exactly like coffee.”

Fletcher snorts quietly beside us, and Wayne just shakes his head, but there’s a lightness in all of us now that wasn’t there when we first set out.

Wayne hands me my drink before I can reach for it, our fingers brushing briefly, and even something so small steadies me more than I expect it to.

The closer we get, the quieter I become.

The landscape starts to shift in ways I recognize, roads I remember without trying, turns my body seems to anticipate before we even reach them. It feels strange, like stepping into a past that doesn’t quite fit anymore, trying on something that used to belong to you and realizing it no longer does.

Eventually, the city comes into view slowly, unfolding in pieces I recognize too well, but somehow it all feels completely different.

“I use to live here,” I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “It feels so weird now. Like a lifetime ago.”

Wayne glances at me. “Past tense.”

I nod, my throat tightening slightly.

Past tense.

The hotel is nothing special, just clean and quiet and a little worn around the edges, but it doesn’t need to be anything more than that. It’s just a place to land for the night, somewhere to breathe before tomorrow becomes real.

Wayne handles check-in as he does everything else, quickly, efficiently, no room for complications. Within a few minutes we’re upstairs, keys in hand, stepping into a room that smells faintly of laundry detergent and a citrusy tang trying a little too hard to feel fresh.

I drop my bag by the chair, taking in the space automatically, checking for exits, for familiarity, for anything that might feel like home.

Rex flops back onto one of the beds with a dramatic exhale, stretching out, claiming territory.

“Well,” he says, staring up at the ceiling, “I’ve stayed in worse.”

“You’ve stayed in trucks,” Fletcher points out.

“Luxury trucks,” Rex corrects, not missing a beat.

Wayne snorts quietly, setting his keys down on the small table before turning back to me. “You want to stay in or get out for a bit?”

I hesitate.

The safe answer is staying here. Letting tomorrow be tomorrow. Not pushing too far too fast.

But I didn’t come all this way to hide in a hotel room.

“I think…” I glance toward the window, toward the town just beyond it. “I think I want to go out. Just for a bit.”