Chapter 1

Tyler Tran is obnoxious.

He’s a backwards-hat, sleeveless t-shirt-wearing, head-banging, motorcycle-riding goon. I mean, the guy’s a professional “gamer” whatever that means. For all I know, he still lives in his parents’ basement and fights with middle-schoolers on the internet all day. I’m not surprised Karilyn broke up with him — I couldn’t believe she’d ever dated him in the first place. Yet here I am, staring in slack-jawed awe at his washboard abs when he lifts the hem of his stupid gym-bro shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

Fuckkkkk, he’s hot.

Okay, maybe I do have a clue about why my best friend dated him, but it doesn’t matter how good looking he is. He’s still just one of those guys who skates through life thinking they can get away with anything they want because they know how to flirt. I’d seen it the first time I met him, when he’d tried dipping that grin my way the minute Karilyn’s back was turned. Men like that can’t be trusted. They’re exactly the kind that will tell you you’re their everything, but in the end will make you nothing.

“We were supposed to leave at nine.” I give my wrist a pointed look, although I’m not wearing a watch and haven’t worn one since college, because who bothers, anymore? I always check the time on my phone. Besides, it’s also totally clear that Tyler doesn’t wear bother checking the time at all, because he’s almost forty minutes late.

Damn it, now I’m staring at his wrists. He’s got really nice forearms, which I have no problem seeing because his sleeveless tank reveals everything from the tips of his fingers to his muscled biceps and the shoulders above. Ugh. I hate myself so much right now.

My irritation doesn’t seem to bother him. He flashes me a wide, bright grin that shows off his perfectly white, straight teeth, and tips his chin with a shrug. Playing bashful? Trying to charm me? Well, I’m not falling for it.

“People who don’t respect other people’s time,” I tell him, “are one of my biggest pet peeves.”

“I had to stop at the store for a few things before we got on the road, and there was a lot of traffic,” he says after a moment, when I guess he’s figured out he can’t play me like that. All the more reason I can’t give him even the barest hint that I find him attractive. He’s clearly used to using his looks and charm to get his way. I’m happy to disappoint him. “Sorry, Brooke. I texted you to let you know I was running behind.”

He did? My phone was in my bag, already in the front seat of the car. I hadn’t thought to check it, but there’s no way I’m going to admit that to him, especially not after I just got all hoity-toity about him being late. I clear my throat. Lift my chin. My steady look meets his, and his expression is open and friendly, and I feel bad for being so sour.

“Never mind. Let’s just get going,” I say.

I’m already regretting this trip, and we haven’t even gotten in the car. Why did I agree to this again? Oh, right. Because my best friend since the third grade is being incredibly stupid and planning to elope with some dude she’s known for all of two weeks, and her most recent ex and I decided we had to stop her.

“I’m ready to go whenever you are,” Tyler says.

“I left you some room in the trunk…is that all you’re bringing?”

The trip from Dayton, Ohio to Las Vegas should take about twenty-eight hours, driving straight through with no stops, which is honestly too crazy to even try. Karilyn’s getting married in four days. I’ve allotted ten hours each day driving time, accounting for bathroom, meal stops and some time to sleep, which leaves us a whole extra day in case something goes wrong. For example, leaving forty minutes late. In preparation for this trip, I packed a full-sized suitcase, my own backpack, a shoe-bag, and a reusable grocery tote filled with healthy food in case the places we have to stop along the way don’t have anything I’ll want to eat. Everything is fitted neatly into the trunk of my ancient gray Volvo, but now I see that I didn’t need to bother making sure there was enough space for Tyler’s baggage. He doesn’t seem to have any.

Tyler hefts the backpack with one arm, and I try to ignore the way his biceps bulge. In his other hand, he carries a plastic sack from the convenience store. “Yep. Got everything I need.”

Skeptically, I look over his minimal belongings. “We’re not making any extra stops on the way except to use the bathroom. Just so you know.”

“Hell, I don’t even need to stop for that,” Tyler says. “I can just go out the window.”

Obnoxious.

I will not dignify that response with one of my own, but I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes. I open the back driver’s side door to let him put his stuff in the backseat. “Let’s get on the road. I’ve already mapped out our trip. We should be rolling into town in the mid-afternoon on Tuesday. Karilyn says the ceremony’s at six pm, Wednesday, at The Flamingo’s Garden Chapel.”

“She knows we’re coming?”

I hesitate but lift my chin to meet his gaze. “Not unless you told her.”

Tyler chuckles and lifts his backwards cap off his head to run a hand through his silky black hair, pushing it back, before he settles the cap back in place. “I haven’t talked to Karilyn in months. Probably even longer than that. After we broke up, she pretty much ghosted me.”

Is that a hint of hurt in his voice? I haven’t asked Tyler why he offered to come along with me, but obviously it’s because he’s still got a thing for my bestie. I can’t blame him. Karilyn’s gorgeous, funny, smart…I never figured out what she saw in Tyler Tran, but it’s easy enough to understand what he saw in her.

I hesitate. Having him along for the ride had seemed like a good idea last night, when I was reeling from finding out about the impending wedding on social media. Having Tyler there had been like a sign. He’s the last boyfriend Karilyn had before she decided to get married to this new one. If I can get her to remember exactly why she’s been so bad at choosing boyfriends, I might be able to shake some sense into her. Maybe I won’t be able to break them up totally, but I’ll call it a win if I can stop her from actually marrying this unknown guy she claims is her soulmate. Save her from herself, you know?

Still, I haven’t fully thought this through. Three or four days in a car with Tyler Tran, not to mention the return trip I’ve completely forgotten to take into consideration? He’s rubbed me the wrong way from the moment we met, and the fact he dumped my best friend did not make me like him any better, especially since she’d been weird and distant when they started dating. She hasn’t really been acting much better since they broke up, either. We haven’t felt close in months, and maybe it’s not because of him, but if I can’t blame him, then who’s at fault?

Tyler slings the backpack into the back seat. He puts the plastic bag on the floor behind the passenger seat and turns, shutting the door. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready,” I say.

Once I get behind the wheel, I consider telling him that I’ve changed my mind, that I want to go by myself. But aside from the fact that driving across the country all on my own is not an entirely smart idea, I need him in all of his obnoxious glory. Karilyn’s never listened to my advice about guys in the past, but if I can get her face-to-face with her ex, I have to believe she’ll at least take a pause.

He’s staring at me, and I realize I’ve been staring at him. Heat floods my face, creeping up from my throat. I must look like an idiot.

“Buckle up, please.” Ugh, I hate the sound of my own voice. So prissy and proper. I give Tyler a sideways glance as I twist the key in the ignition.

Gertie’s engine doesn’t roar to life so much as it sputters, and I give her a minute to really get going. I pat her dashboard with a quiet murmur of encouragement, realizing too late that Tyler is chuckling. I frown at him.

“She’s an old car, but she’s a good car.”

“I drive a beat-up motorcycle, who am I to judge your ride?” Tyler shrugs as he slips the seatbelt into the buckle and tugs the shoulder strap before letting it tighten on his chest. That chest. Those pecs, those biceps…

Damn, I’m staring again, and I force myself to face the windshield. The last thing I want him to notice is me giving him the google-eyes like some kind of lovesick tween girl staring at the captain of the high school football team.

I do not have a crush on Tyler Tran.

Hot body aside, there’s nothing about him that I even like. Dumb sense of humor, no real job, stoner attitude, coasting through life, working his way through women like they’re disposable. Thinks he’s all that. Oh, and he was late.

We sit for another half a minute. I can feel him looking at me. His sleek black brows are way too perfect. He must groom them. They match his dark hair, which, now that he tossed the stupid backwards ball cap into my back seat, I can see is shaved close to his scalp on one side. It falls longer on the other side, covering his eye so he has to shake his head to clear his vision. It’s a habit I can see is going to irritate me. My fingers itch to push it off his face, so I clench my fist against my thigh.

“What?” I ask him.

“Are we…going?”

“I’m giving Gertie a chance to warm up,” I tell him and wait for the laughter. If he makes fun of Gertie, I’ll have one more reason to think he’s totally obnoxious.

“Aww, Gertie. That’s a cute name. I named my bike Pegasus,” he says, then coughs abruptly into his fist. “Don’t tell anyone that.”

Pegasus? I twist a little in my seat to look at him. “Fan of Greek mythology?”

“I mean…well, I’m not sure I’d say I’m a fan of Greek mythology as a whole. But I love Pegasus. A horse with wings? Pretty cool, right?”

Grudgingly, I have to agree.

The sound of Gertie’s engine has settled into a steady rumble, nothing close to a purr, but she’s ready to go. I put her into drive and start pulling away from my house. This is it. We have four days to get to Las Vegas and stop my best friend from completely screwing up her life.

I only hope we make it in time.