Chapter 1

Alex’s POV.

The minivan felt like a damn pressure cooker inside, all that luggage and blankets and half-empty chip bags stuffed so tight there was no room to move without bumping elbows or knees.

Up front Dad was yelling at Mom about the GPS route again, his voice cutting over the loud rock music he blasted to drown out her complaints while the highway traffic crawled slower than shit.

Marcus, Dad’s best friend for twenty years with those thick arms covered in old tattoos and that solid build that never quit the gym, just shifted under the shared blanket and patted his big thigh once.

“Come sit on...