Page 24 of Quarter Miles (Runaway 3)

Cash’s forehead furrowed as he stared down at me, a look of shock marring his handsome face.

Oh my God, I’d sniffed him. I’d sniffed him and he’d heard and now things were weird. Shit. And I’d been holding on to him so tight. I’d been clinging to him. Clinging. What did I do? What did I say? My brain was scrambling for any way to downplay that hug, but before I could make up some lame excuse about feeling lonely or tired, Cash patted the top of my head and strode out of the room, the door swinging closed behind him.

I waited, listening to his bootsteps, as he walked down the sidewalk to his room. The door opened and shut, echoing through our adjoining wall. Then it was silent, the insulation between our rooms preventing me from hearing anything else.

I blew out the breath I’d been holding. Mortification flamed across my cheeks.

Did he know? Had that hug just given me away? There was a reason I kept a safe physical distance from Cash. Two feet at minimum. Because apparently my body couldn’t be trusted.

I groaned, collapsing onto the end of the bed and burying my face in my hands.

Cash had patted my head.

I’d hugged him, sniffed him, and he’d patted my head.

What the fuck was wrong with me? Why was I doing this to myself? Why couldn’t I just shut it off?

I don’t love Cash.

I don’t love Cash.

I don’t—

A sob came out of nowhere and escaped my lips. I slapped a hand over my mouth in case there was another. This roller coaster was killing me. We were friends one minute, talking and eating and laughing, then the next I just wanted him to hold me. To say good night with a kiss instead of a childish pat on the damn head.

Why was letting him go so hard?

Why couldn’t he love me back?

Chapter Five

Cash

“Cash,” Kat snapped as the tires buzzed on the rumble strip.

I jerked my gaze up and righted the car before drifting into the other lane. Thankfully it was empty.

Fuck. What was with me today?

“What’s with you today?” she asked.

Of course she’d snatch the words from my head. The two of us had been friends for so long, it wasn’t uncommon to finish each other’s sentences.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Just, uh, lost in thought.”

Katherine hummed and returned her gaze to the passenger window, staring out over the green fields that rolled beyond. Her attention had been fixed on the landscape all morning, which was probably why she hadn’t noticed that the reason I’d been bouncing between the white line of the shoulder and yellow center divide for the past twenty miles was because my eyes hadn’t exactly been on the road.

They’d been on her.

I ran a hand over my jaw, then gave it a smack, wishing I could knock some sense into my head. Since I hadn’t shaved my beard yet, maybe it would cover some of the confusion on my face.

Something was not right. Things felt . . . weird. With Kat. And I couldn’t put my finger on why.

Last night, we’d had a normal dinner. At least, it should have been normal. Just two friends sitting across from one another, talking. And she’d confided in me. Finally, Kat had trusted me with details from her past.

Was that why dinner had felt so . . . intimate? Maybe it was just the setting, but damn, it had felt like a date. I’d teased her about thinking of it like one but hadn’t expected to actually fall for it myself. And not just a date.

A good date.