Lia
Saturday morning comes more quickly than I would like. The sky is overcast, gray and moody. A perfect setting for how miserable I feel, knowing I accepted Caden’s help. He texted me late last night—an address. Just an address. I googled it, The Cozy Cup, a small coffee shop two towns over. It looks quaint enough, which is exactly what he wants. Somewhere out of sight, where none of his friends will run into us. Trust me, I don’t want to be caught dead with him either.
The drive over is long—thirty-five minutes of winding roads and nothing but trees stretching endlessly on either side. I almost turn around three times, the urge to bail growing stronger with every passing mile, but I keep going. As much as I hate to admit it, I need his help, and that ticks me off, more than anything.
