It was past four in the afternoon when they stopped for gas in Chippewa, Nebraska. The weather was cold and foggy, but a small cafe was just across the road, promising the best split pea soup in town. Samantha climbed out of the Mustang, trying to shake the tingles from her legs where they’d fallen asleep, but it wasn’t quite working. She found herself holding onto the side of the car to catch her balance.
Even though she still had enough snacks to keep a small football team satisfied for a weekend, she was excited for the excuse to get out of the car for a while. To warm her body from the inside out with a hot cup of soup.
Tristan got out of the car and stretched his arms above his head—which lifted his hoodie just enough to make his stomach visible. “I’ll fill up,” he yawned. “Why don’t you go get us a table?”
Samantha raised her eyes, hoping he hadn’t caught her staring. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” She grabbed hold of her bag from the front seat, then proceeded to limp-walk on pins and needles across the street.
They’d been on the road for over six hours. Six hours of talking about nothing—and about all the things that had been going on in their lives over the past few years. She never thought she’d have five words to say to Tristan after their night together, yet talking to him now came remarkably easy. He listened, which surprised her. Really listened, in a way that reminded her of Renee. She liked that. Liked how he made what she was saying important enough to pay attention to.
She pushed open the door to the cafe, where a large chalkboard told her to seat herself. A glance around the restaurant revealed a bar with classic red and chrome bar stools, and booths that had mini jukeboxes in the middle of each one.
Opting for a booth, she settled herself into the closest one that had a nice view of the street. A server pushed through the double doors a moment later and came over to say hello. Her hair was red, done up in a style that reminded Samantha of I Love Lucy, and her pink pinafore only added to the ensemble. She was young and pretty though, and had a sweetness about her that made Samantha smile.
“Howdy,” the girl said, as she leaned against the booth. “Welcome to Peggy’s Cafe. Best split pea soup in Chippewa.”
Samantha smiled, knowing this was the only restaurant in Chippewa, but she kept that bit of info to herself. “Thank you. It’s nice to be off the road and stretching my legs for a bit.”
The server grinned, set two menus on the table and tilted her head. “I’m guessing you folks aren’t from ’round here.”
Samantha opened her menu, perplexed by the fact the server knew she wasn’t alone and glanced over all the full color images of sandwiches, soups and salads. “California,” she answered.
“Ooooh… I’ve been there once. To Malibu. I’d give my right tit just to go back for a weekend and get out of this cold.” She sighed and took her tablet from the pocket. “Where y’all headed? You and that hot piece of somethin’ you have ’cross the street.”
Samantha glanced out the window, slightly shocked by the girl’s choice of words, and found Tristan in the parking lot. He was the only person she could have been talking about, and Samantha nearly choked at the realization. “Are you talking about Tristan?” she asked, turning quickly around.
“Well I ain’t talkin’ ’bout Jesus, sweetheart. ’Course I’m talking about him, though I have to admit, I am right jealous.”
“Oh. Well, no need to be jealous. He’s not mine.” She adjusted in her seat then glanced back at the menu. “We’re only driving together.”
“Bullshit.” The server coughed, then sat quickly sat in the seat across from her. “I mean, I don’t mean to pry—and my lady bits just tingled at the possibility of him being single, but no man looks at a woman like that, without somethin’ goin’ on.”
Samantha followed the girl’s line of vision, and found Tristan standing at the gas pump, filling the Mustang with fuel—and looking directly at her.
She turned away.
“See.” The girl laughed. But her eyebrows rose as though she’d proven her point.
Samantha shook her head, resisting the urge to look again. “What kind of cheese do you use on your sandwiches?” she asked instead, hoping the change in subject wouldn’t go unnoticed.
“Wisconsin cheddar,” the server answered quickly, without skipping a beat. “So what’s your story? If he’s not yours, why are you driving alone together all the way from Cali?”
Samantha cleared her throat, tempted to call the manager and complain about this nosey server, but for some reason she felt the need to set her straight. “My best friend is getting married,” she stated. “That hot piece of something is her brother.”
The girl raised her brows in an all-knowing sort of way and laughed. “Well shoot! This trip gets juicier and juicer.”
Samantha slapping the menu down to the table. “No. It’s not like that. I have a boyfriend.”
“Ho-le-shit!” the girl called. “And he let you drive cross country with him?”
Samantha frowned. “He trusts me.”
The server scoffed. “Trust only takes you so far—”
Samantha had enough. She looked the server dead in the eye, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Can we have two coffees please? With cream?”
The girl must have taken the hint, because she cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes as she stood from the table. She straightened her pinafore, picked up her tablet from where she had laid it on the table, then scribbled down a few notes. “Anything else?” she asked begrudgingly.
“No,” Samantha uttered. “That will be all.”
But as soon as the server walked through the double doors to the back room, Samantha found herself looking for Tristan again through the window. He was still standing at the pump talking on the phone, his other hand in his pocket, and his eyes were locked right on her. He waved, sending goose bumps and tingles loose throughout her entire body. She glanced back at the menu again, realizing she hadn’t felt this way in six years. Not since she was sixteen years old, and she sat too close to her best friend’s brother.
God save her soul.
14
Chapter Fourteen
Six years earlier
Familiar faces filled the downstairs great room in the Montgomerys’ home. Just like they had nearly every other weekend before Tristan went off to college. It was like a reunion of sorts. The past year’s senior football team, now mixed with new faces. Some from Samantha’s class, and some the year ahead, all laughing, and flirting, and messing around.
Samantha sat at the bar with Renee and a boy from their biology class. But all she could think about was how Tristan had stared at her all throughout dinner. Not really stared, but she caught him looking a time or two. When she was buttering her roll, she caught him. And again, when she’d glanced up to look for the saltshaker. Honestly, it sent tiny butterflies loose all throughout her belly. But at the same time, it made her think about their kiss. The kiss she still hadn’t told Renee about.
The kiss that had the potential to ruin their friendship.