Page 7 of A Knotty Road Trip

I'm on edge after that call with my dad. I haven't seen Paul in a long time, and the last time I did, it wasn't good.

I don't understand why he's even in contact with my family. They never even liked him when we were dating.

He wasn't good enough. I never cared that he came from a poor family. I fell for the sweet notes he would leave in my locker and the way he would listen for hours as I talked.

He was more than my first boyfriend. He was my best friend. Until that night…

Shaking my head, I take a few deep breaths, grab my bag, and leave the bathroom once more.

I don't know why I always find myself in a restroom when I need a moment to cool my nerves.

Opening the door, I turn left, running into a hard chest. Dropping my bag, I place my palms against their coat, gripping it tight.

“I am so sorry,” I gasp, lifting my eyes to the man in front of me.

His lips are pursed and his eyebrows furrowed. He doesn't say anything, and this is awkward.

Removing my hands, I begin to wipe off my touch, sliding along his coat, brushing off nothing.

It's a nervous habit of mine, and at least this time I didn't dump a drink on an unexpecting stranger's lap.

I'll never forget my trying to help clean up the tea, and the man's cheeks turning red as he became affected by my touch.

I have always been a little clumsy.

“Stop,” he barks, and I freeze. My eyes widening at his tone. Damn.

Stepping away from him, I bend down and grab my bag at the same time he lowers.

“Fuck,” he grunts as our heads slam into each other. Ugh, just what I needed. My head swims, and my eyes water.

Blinking a few times, I don't fight him as he grabs my arm and helps me to my feet.

“Shit, are you okay?”

I think I nod as he leads me to a seat and helps me sit down.

“What the hell happened?” a man says, and I sigh.

“We knocked our heads together. Can you grab my other pair of glasses from the side pocket of my backpack? These snapped,” the guy I hit says.

Shoot. I'll have to offer to replace his lenses.

When my head stops spinning, I open my eyes, squinting at the bright fluorescent lights.

“I'm really sorry,” I mumble, pressing my fingers against my forehead, and I wince. “That's going to bruise.”

“Angel just went to get some ice,” the new man says, handing my victim his new pair of glasses.

“Thanks. He doesn't need to go to that much trouble though. I'll be fine. Not the first time I've almost concussed myself,” I say with a small laugh.

Both men turn to look at me with frowns on their undeniably handsome faces. I squirm, crossing my legs as my panties become even wetter.

“Right. Well even so, my mother wouldn't approve of me not helping a woman in need,” the man says.

“Um, okay, well I'm Belle,” I say, offering my hand.

“Tate,” he replies, giving me a quick shake before looking over his shoulder. The man in the leather coat is walking over toward us.

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