Tristen Pov
With a press of the remote key, my car lights up, welcoming Essel into the passenger seat. As I walk around the front, I pull out my phone and text Georgia, whom I was scheduled to meet this afternoon.
"Sorry, I'm a bit tied up and can't make it right now. I'll call you later."
After the message goes through, I tuck my phone back into my pocket and settle into the driver's seat.
"Do you have a destination in mind?" I inquire while fastening my seatbelt.
"Nope," she replies.
As I tap my fingers on the steering wheel, a great idea comes to me. "How about Cocoa’s?"
"I've never heard of it, but sure," she responds with a smile, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"You've never been to Cocoa’s?" I ask, starting the engine, shifting into drive, and pressing the accelerator. I navig
