The highway stretched empty under a bruised purple sky. Rain had started an hour ago, fat drops smacking the windshield like they were angry at the world. Inside the old Jeep, the air smelled like wet leather, cheap coffee, and the faint coconut of Riley’s body lotion.
Riley was behind the wheel, dark hair pulled into a messy knot, tank top clinging to her skin from the humidity. She was twenty-four, all sharp cheekbones and restless energy, the kind of girl who could make a room go quiet just by walking in.
Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. She hadn’t spoken in forty minutes.
I sat shotgun, feet up on the dash, wearing nothing but cutoff denim shorts and a cropped hoodie. My name is Nova.
Twenty-three. Blonde waves down to my ribs, freckles across my nose, thighs that l
