“No.”
“Michael Alan Wallace, you slept with her and just let her leave like it was nothing?”
“Whoa, hold up.” I hold my hands in the air. “I didn’t sleep with her.”
“She spent the night at your house.”
“She did. She slept in my bed next to me, but I didn’t have sex with her,” I grumble.
“Interesting,” she says, leaning back in her chair.
Before I can ask her why in the hell she finds that interesting, my phone pings with a message.
Jamie: Stopping for a bathroom break and snacks. A road trip is nothing without snacks.
I smile.
“Is that her?”
I don’t answer her as I type out a reply.
“It is. She’s texting you. You know she really shouldn’t text and drive.”
“She’s not. She’s at a gas station, bathroom break,” I say, going back to my message.
Me: I agree. What’s your favorite?
I keep my phone in my hand before giving my attention back to my sister. She’s grinning like a fool.
“So what’s she saying?”
“Nothing, I just… fuck, Liv, why do you have to be so damn nosey?”
“It’s my job as your little sister, so spill.”
“I told her to check in, okay? It’s a long drive for her to be doing on her own.”
“Aw, you’re worried about her.”
“I just… she’s a beautiful woman driving six hours on her own. It makes sense to have her check in.”
“And what happens if she doesn’t?”
A million different scenarios of why she wouldn’t, of what could prevent her from checking in, invade my mind and my chest gets tight. “I go look for her.”
Liv claps her hands. “This is better than I thought.”
“What are you going on about?” I ask when my phone pings again.
Jamie: Combos. The pizza-flavored pretzel ones. You?
Me: Beef jerky. A road trip must.
Jamie: I can honestly say I’ve never tried beef jerky.
Me: What? How is that possible?
Jamie: Just not something I’ve ever tried.