Page 73 of Racking Up Penalties
“Those poor cookies,” I muse, leaning back in my seat. “They never stood a chance.”
“Neither did the fire alarm,” Ethan chimes in from behind, his voice laced with humor.
“Or my dignity,” I add, and we all burst into another round of laughter, the sound filling the car and mingling with the strains of the upbeat music Liam has chosen as our soundtrack.
Tristan stares deep in my eyes before confessing, “I almost kissed you that day before the fire alarm went off.”
I can’t help smiling. “Really?”
He nods.
Liam pulls off in front of a diner. “Should we get some lunch? We have a couple hours left.”
When we get out of the car I pull Tristan into a kiss. He wraps his arms around me before whispering, “At least I get to kiss you now.”
I giggle. “Anytime you want.”
A silver bell jingles above us as we push through the door of the roadside diner, a cozy sanctuary from the chill outside. The smell of coffee and sizzling bacon wraps around us like a warm blanket. Liam leads the way to a booth by the window, and we slide into the red vinyl seats.
“Okay, who’s hungry?” he asks, flashing a grin that’s all boyish charm, his green eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the overhead lights.
“Starving,” Ethan replies, his voice as solid and reassuring as his presence beside me in the backseat. He picks up a laminated menu and scans it, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Let’s not forget the pie. This place is famous for it. The sign outside says so,” Tristan adds with a wink, nudging my shoulder playfully. I laugh, the sound mingling with the hum of conversations around us.
“I’m definitely in for pie,” I say, my stomach seconding the motion with an enthusiastic growl.
We order a hodgepodge of comfort foods, from fluffy pancakes to crispy hash browns. Most of us opt for their brunch food even though it’s lunchtime. Liam captures a snapshot of Ethan pretending to steal bites of Tristan’s food, while I snap a picture of Liam with syrup on his nose, courtesy of a playful fork mishap.
“Cheese!” I call out, holding my phone aloft. We cram together, our heads touching, a tangle of limbs and laughter. The camera shutter clicks, immortalizing this moment of pure, unadulterated joy.
“Perfect,” I say, admiring the photo before setting my phone aside. “That’s going to be my wallpaper.”
Back on the road, the last remnants of pumpkin pie and whipped cream settling contently in our bellies, I rummage through my bag and pull out my sketchbook. The mood in the car is light, the easy banter continuing to flow. Flipping to a blank page, I let my pencil dance across the paper, lines and shapes forming under my fingertips.
“Whatcha drawing?” Tristan asks, leaning forward between the front seats to catch a glimpse.
“Trying to capture the essence of today,” I reply, not looking up from my work. A shirt design starts to take shape, something casual but with unique touches that speak to the adventure we’re on.
“You should design something for me,” Ethan chimes in from behind me, his tone teasing. “Stake a claim with it.”
I laugh. “Sure.”
The miles roll by as I sketch, the hum of the engine a soothing backdrop to my thoughts.
The last note of a song fades away, and Liam fiddles with the stereo, a grin spreading across his face. “How about my road trip playlist?” he suggests. There’s an eagerness in his voice that’s infectious.
Clearly, Liam loves music.
“Absolutely,” I chime in, setting my sketchbook aside. The screen lights up as he connects his phone, and soon the car fills with the opening chords of an upbeat track.
Ethan starts it off, his deep voice surprisingly on key as he belts out the lyrics from the backseat. Tristan joins in, their voices overlapping in a harmony that’s more enthusiasm than skill, but it’s perfect. I can’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the music as I sing along, my voice finding its place among theirs.
Liam taps his hand against the steering wheel, keeping time with the rhythm, and every now and then his gray eyes meet mine, sparking with joy.
As we near our destination, the scenery shifts from open highways to quaint neighborhoods lined with trees shedding their autumn leaves. That’s when the butterflies start—the ones that have been fluttering quietly in my stomach now seem to be doing somersaults. Meeting Liam’s mom feels like a big step, a real introduction to a part of his life I’ve only heard about in stories.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady the nervous rhythm of my heart, but it’s Liam’s warmth that calms me. His hand leaves the gear shift, reaching over to find mine, fingers intertwining with a gentleness that speaks volumes. The reassuring squeeze he gives isn’t just comfort; it’s a silent promise that no matter what happens, he’s here for me.
