A/N: Hello again everyone! :D

Before we get started with the new chapter, I would like to thank everyone that read the first chapter. I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, RainbowDiamonds, Guest, and Side1ways for reviewing!

I hope you all enjoy!

The week had passed with surprising quickness. I liked my job, always had, but working lower on the totem pole than I thought I was cut out for, doing work less fulfilling than I wanted, had me tired and bored most days. I understood that I had to pay my dues, but God, it was frustrating.

But this week hadn't been half as slow as usual.

It was a stroke of luck that Andy from marketing came down with the stomach flu and I ended up with the Heymans account. I normally did more fact-checking: mind-numbing, not-worth-100k-tuition kind of work. But working in marketing, with the designers and the actual creative teams, was almost as invigorating as I remembered it sounding in college.

For once, I showed up to work before eight a.m. and didn't leave until well past six in the evening. My head hurt half the day from squinting at the computer screen, and my apartment definitely looked like someone who didn't give a fuck about laundry lived there, but at least I was finally doing work that didn't make me feel brain dead. That had to count for something.

Despite that, by Friday I was one more note from design away from pulling my teeth out, bare hands and all. There was probably more coffee in my stomach than guts and, thank God, I was about ready to shoot the account to the higher ups.

I leaned away from my desk, rolling my neck as I stretched in my chair. A low groan fell from my throat, the kinks in my neck loosening only slightly.

Sharon laughed, breaking into my self-pitying stretching. I cracked an eye open and glanced at her. "Something to say?"

She lifted her hands immediately. "Hey, I didn't say anything."

"Fuck off, Sharon." I quipped back, but there was no heat behind the words.

With the open-concept office, everyone in our department heard me.

There were twelve of us out here. The cubicles were shaped like a small square. Six of the desks were on the outside, six on the inside. There was a small walkway for those of us in the middle, or as I had dubbed it a few months back, the Quad.

Most of us loved the nickname. I'd give out one guess as to who hated it the most vocally.

I thanked the God of office planners every day that Kendall was on the outside of the Quad. At least now his annoyed and snide remarks were somewhat muffled, and my laughter was softened by the cubicle walls.

A few chuckles filled the space, Sharon rolled her eyes at me even as she laughed. A couple of the guys, Jett and Carlos, glanced up with amused expressions. I heard Kendall's scoff even through the divide of the cubicles separating us.

"Hey, kid." Jett said, even though he was only a couple years older than me. My teeth gnashed, even as I forced a smile onto my face. "You enjoying that new account?"

My smile widened. "Yeah, hundo-p."

Kendall groaned. I heard the soft sound of his head hitting his keyboard. A familiar sound, for sure, followed by an even more familiar, "You're the worst."

Jett and I exchanged a look, punctuated by me rolling my eyes and Jett's wide grin. I considered the pros and cons of pulling Kendall's leg some more, but I knew he was also hoping for the Heymans account, and despite how little he thought of me, I didn't want to be a complete dick to the guy.

The rest of the day passed quickly. I barely noticed the way my hands were cramping and my spine was curling until I looked up and it was past seven o'clock. I cursed, quickly saving all the files I was working on, and waved a quick goodbye to the few people left. Even Kendall was already gone, though I had heard him grumbling while trying to find something else to do to stick around until I left. I knew it grated on him that I'd gotten the account rather than him.

I had a few text messages from Luke, a friend I tried to see at least once a month, but I could feel my heavy eyes and exhaustion clawing at me already. I sent off a quick-fire apology and promised to buy rounds next time.

He sent back a string of annoyed-but hilarious-emojis, but followed it with a "No problem, I totally get it" message that eased, at the very least, the tension of feeling like a bad friend.

I stopped at a burger joint on my walk to my apartment, picking up an admittedly too-greasy meal, and managed to make it into my bed, sans clothes and with a huge pile of french fries, by eight o'clock. With a sigh, I happily started to munch on the food when my phone buzzed.

A jolt of fear that it was work went through me. I was tired, dammit.

It was Lucy's name on the screen, though. I grinned, shoving a fistful of fries into my mouth and answered it with a garbled, "Hello?"

I heard her groan as clearly as if she was sitting across from me. I could practically see her scrunched-up nose. "Half-Pint, you are disgusting."

"You know that's not my name." I reminded her.

She made a sound that was the verbal equivalent of waving her hand in the air. "As if that matters."

I laughed and took a long pull from the soda on my nightstand. "So," I said, settling against the pillows. "How's London?"

Lucy started to spill about her last few weeks. It had been almost three since she left, and already I was about to gnash my teeth. Sure, I had other friends in Seattle, but none of them were Lucy. And with me being so busy, even my non-Lucy friends were awol from my life. Admittedly, that was my fault, but still.

"And, anyway," Lucy continued, undeterred by my melancholy hums, knowing full well they were only full of me missing her, "that was when I knew, without a single doubt, that I would never be a true British monarch."

"You'd never be a fake one, either."

"Never say never, Half-Pint."

I laughed. "Okay, fair. Let me guess, your birthday?"

"Or Halloween. Lots of ways and reasons to dress up and fake monarch here."

I grinned, rolling my eyes at her. "When will you be back again?"

Lucy sighed. "Not for weeks."

"Oh, God. Weeks? It's already been weeks!"

"I know!" She cried.

I shoved more fries in my mouth and chewed slowly. I didn't want to be so obviously upset by this news. "So much could happen in a few weeks."

Lucy was rolling her eyes-I didn't see it, but I didn't have to. "Sure. You could get married, have kids, all before I get my return flight from Heathrow."

"I'm just saying." I grumbled. "Listen, I promise not to get married until you come back to Seattle. Scout's honor!"

There was a loud shuffling noise from her side of the line and then a quick, "Oh, damn."

"Something wrong?"

"Sorry, Half-Pint. I have to get going. I'll see you soon."

We hung up after a few more long, gushy goodbyes that both Lucy and I were going to pretend didn't happen. I shot Mom a quick text about our weekly dinner-Sunday night, seven o'clock, I bring the dessert-and tossed my trash into the can across from my bed. The burger wrapper missed and fell to the ground.

I ignored it, talking to Mom a bit before turning in for the night. I was exhausted, but still knew I was going to miss the assignment when it was over. I fell asleep dreaming about promotions.

XxX

I was halfway through reviewing the notes marketing had sent me, and three-fourths of the way through my Americano, when the phone rang. I reached for it blindly with one hand while the other lifted the coffee cup to my mouth.

"Diamond." I said, eyes scanning over the email still pulled up on my computer screen.

My uncle's voice cut me off short. "James, my office."

I sat the coffee cup down quickly, frowning. "Hey, I've been on time! Early, even."

Harris sighed. It was that long, heavy one that curled around me for a week after. I was sure he'd learned it from my mother. "Just...get up here. You're giving me a migraine."

I threw my hands up in defeat, even though he couldn't see me. Cradling the phone against my shoulder, I typed out a quick email to the marketing department that I would get on the revisions soon, and then hung up on Harris.

When I made it up to my office, I froze.

The door slamming behind me had two heads whipping in my direction. My jaw clenched, and I glared at Kendall's smirking face. "What is he doing here?"

Normally, Kendall was the aggressor in this pissing match we had, but if he honestly thought I was going to roll over while he reported me again, he had another thing coming.

Harris interrupted Kendall when he opened his mouth, eyes shooting daggers at me. "Enough, both of you. James, sit down."

Begrudgingly, I sat in the chair next to Kendall across from Harris's desk. Kendall squirmed in his seat, clearly wanting to snipe at me, but unwilling to be unprofessional in front of his boss.

Idiot.

I turned to my uncle and shot him my nicest grin. "I don't know what Kendall has been saying, Harris, but-"

He waved me off and rolled his eyes. Kendall shot me a pinched look, and I fought the urge to say something else.

"I didn't call you in here to yell at you." Harris said slowly, eyebrows raising. I considered that, forcing myself to not turn or fidget. He smiled at us, looking at us both carefully and appraisingly. "I have a project for you."

My spine stiffened. Kendall sat straight up in his seat, his face immediately shifted to something hungry and eager.

"Um, sir?" Kendall prompted.

Harris cracked a smile. "It could be a way for you to move up the ladder here. Both of you. I know you've both been hoping to bring something more to the table, to advance in the company, and I want you to know that we notice that kind of thing here. Kendall, you have a great track record. James, your help with the Heymans account has been important."

I couldn't help it. I stole a glance at Kendall. His eyes were wide, expression nearly stunned in surprise. I could feel nerves building in my chest.

I turned to Harris quickly. "Is this, like, a competition?"

"No." Harris said firmly. He placed both hands on his desk. "We have a...sensitive package that needs to be delivered to a client in Los Angeles."

"You want us to facilitate the delivery?" Kendall frowned.

Harris shook his head. "It's not suitable for air travel. It needs to be delivered in person. I need someone I trust on this."

"So you want us to, what, drive to LA?"

"I think," Kendall said deliberately, shooting me an exasperated look. "What James is trying to ask is: What, precisely, do you need from us?"

"I need you to drive to LA and hand-deliver a package to one of our most important clients. The contents of the package are non-replaceable."

"That's, like, forty hours of driving." I pointed out.

Harris threw his hands up. "Well, if you're not up to the task-"

"Hey, hey, no, I didn't say that!"

"Sir, I would be happy to complete the task myself."

I glared at him. "Oh, I'm sure you would."

Kendall glared right back.

Harris muttered something under his breath that I couldn't quite hear. It took all my energy to not glare at him, too.

I sighed. "Why not send a courier?"

"The package is, as I said, irreplaceable. I'd drive it myself, but I trust both of you. Of course, you're both fully able to say no-"

Kendall and I interrupted him with a loud litany of protests. He smiled. "Good."

"When do we leave?" Kendall, straight down to business.

At the same time, I asked, "What's in the package?"

Harris pinched the bridge of his nose and then smoothed out his expression. "Confidential, for our client's privacy. You'll need to leave immediately."

"I have dinner with Mom." I blurted out.

Kendall shot me an incredulous look. "I, of course, will cancel any plans I have."

Harris's mouth pinched. I recognized it as him trying not to laugh. "Leave in the morning. Take a company car, if you want."

"My car works fine." I said.

Kendall rolled his eyes, I quirked an eyebrow. There was a beat before we both looked away, conceding the fight before it began. For now...

Harris didn't notice the tip-toeing of our battle plans. He was shuffling through papers. "Here." He shoved an envelope at Kendall. I tried not to take it personally.

Kendall flipped through the contents and then handed it to me. Inside were directions to the client's drop-off location, contact information, and where to get the package before we left.

Harris dismissed us. I saluted, he rolled his eyes, Kendall shook his hand firmly. Fuck, he was such a suck-up.

We walked quietly to the elevator. Kendall was practically bouncing where he stood. His enthusiasm was a little hard to be annoyed at, even if he was a dick most of the time. I punched the down button. "So, I'll pick you up eight."

His head whipped to me quickly. "Who said you're driving?"

"Uh, I've seen the sack of shit car you drive. We're taking mine."

His eyes narrowed. "We could take a company car."

"Then we'd have to wait until at least ten to rent it out, and get on the insurance, and it'd be a whole big thing. No, we'll just take my car."

Kendall's lips pursed together. His mind was whirling for an excuse so bad I could see the smoke coming out the top.

"Fine." He said at last, a look of utter defeat crossing his expression. He pulled out his phone at tapped aggressively. "I just airdropped my address to you."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, nodding. "Okay. Eight?"

"Eight." He agreed, sighing heavily. We stepped onto the elevator and he punched the button. "I can't believe I have to drive all the way to LA with you."

"Aww." I said. I leaned against the corner of the elevator, crossing my ankles and grinning. "I'm a delight."

"You're a pariah to society."

"Knight, you are a treasure to society."

"Shut up." He grumbled, crossing his arms. I laughed.

He stormed out as soon as the elevator cracked open, shifting his hips so he could slide between the still-moving doors.

I cracked up, quickly texting Lucy what had just happened as I made my way back to my desk.

Sure, a road trip with Kendall Knight wasn't my favorite way to spend a weekend, but at least he'd be twice as miserable as I was. And Lucy always did love a good Kendall story.

In a surprising turn of events, James showed up on my curb at exactly eight a.m.

I had a duffle bag full of clothes, the package that needed to be delivered, and a Thermos full of coffee in my hand. The bad mood that had clung to me the past few weeks finally lifting.

I might not have been looking forward to spending much time with James, of all people, but this was my chance. This random-but-important errand was going to be the thing that got me out of the mediocre middle ground of the corporate ladder.

Not even James could ruin that excitement. I waved a little as he came to a stop by my house.

"Hey." I tossed the duffle into the backseat and slid into the front. It was a nice car. I didn't know much about cars, but this one seemed nice. I couldn't remember seeing it in the parking lot at work.

It was a sleek black Volvo, the inside dark leather. I wouldn't say it to him, but it was a good thing that we were taking his instead of my old blue Chevy. It would not be half as comfortable, let alone get gas mileage as good as this thing probably would.

"Hey." James' radio was playing some old rock song. He bobbed his head along to it, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. His other hand was curled around a coffee cup.

It was an extra large from a coffee shop near work. I'd gone there once, my first week at the office. It was one of those artisanal, expensive joints.

I buckled my seatbelt, and after giving me an appraising look, he took a gulp of his coffee and threw the car into drive. We shot off the curb fast enough that I let out a quick, surprised curse. I tightened my grip on the folder of information.

"You drive like a maniac." I said.

James rolled his eyes. "Dude. Forty hours."

I shrugged one shoulder. I'd much rather get there in forty-two hours and survive, but, hey. I flipped through the documents one more time, even though I mostly had them memorized from going over them last night.

"Hey, if we take Route 150 South, then-"

"Nope." James barely glanced at me, interrupting my suggestion. "I mapped it on my phone."

"But the documents-"

"Harris is a thousand years old." James said. He reached for his coffee again. It bumped against my thermos. "We're not taking directions from a literal map. We can just use an app."

I pursed my lips together. Don't fight, I reminded myself.

There was no real benefit of arguing with James. We were stuck together in his car, and even though Harris said that this would be a good opportunity for both of us, everyone knew that Harris had a soft spot for James.

They got along easier than I did with any of the higher-ups. While I was sort of sure that James wouldn't openly badmouth me to the boss, he probably wouldn't shy away from telling Harris if I was openly hostile.

"Fine." I said after a moment. "Do you want to plan the stops now? I'm thinking we can switch every four hours, grab some lunch after the first switch?"

James waved me off dismissively. "No need. I like driving."

I frowned. "That's insane. I can drive at least half."

"Nope." James said. "My car, my rules."

"We could have taken a rental!" My fingers creased into the papers, and I forced myself to relax, to keep from jumping out of the car right then and there.

"No need. This baby drives smooth." He winked, then started to rattle off various details about the car.

I interrupted him. "I… Look, I really don't care."

I winced at the shortness of my voice and glanced over.

James' lips were twitching as if he were amused, eyes staying on the road almost purposefully. I felt less bad.

I considered arguing more. It was ridiculous-there was no way James could drive the entire way to and from Los Angeles, especially when another fully capable driver was sitting right here.

I could talk about all the ways that driving so much was dangerous. It was bad for the body, but also, he was more likely to crash his car. He seemed to like his car-maybe that would work. Or I could argue that it was my job, my duty-Harris had chosen both of us, and I wasn't about to let him do more of the legwork so he could one-up me.

I drank my coffee slowly, considering my various options. Regardless of what I did, I was trapped with James for-I checked my watch-at least 39 hours and forty minutes. I needed to play nice.

James hummed along to the music playing. I didn't recognize it. I didn't really listen to rock music. Ambient work tunes, sure, or whatever indie band Camille was into that week.

But I wasn't really into any particular type of music myself. Logan said that was weird. I told him he was a dick. We agreed there was a difference in opinions preventing us from seeing eye to eye.

I drank the rest of my coffee slowly. Even though I was used to being up this early-hell, I would normally have been in the office for an hour already-it was different. I couldn't lose myself in work, couldn't dive into my cubicle and ignore the rest of the world while going over customer complaints and expense reports.

Normally, I did everything I could to avoid spending any amount of time with James. Now, it was taking everything in me to not stare openly at him.

I didn't think I'd ever seen James drive before. Of course, I got to work before him and left after him most days, so it wasn't like we'd be leaving the lot at the same time. But even before work, in college, I couldn't remember a time when he'd been behind the wheel.

It seemed impossible now, watching him on the road. He looked more relaxed here than he did anywhere else I'd ever seen him. I briefly wondered if that was safe, if he was actually using any brain cells at all.

One hand was curled around the steering wheel, a loose grip that was nothing like the ten and two I drove at. His other sat on top of his coffee cup, which had been long empty but still occupied the cup holder. He had a thick ring on his middle finger, a dented silver band. Had he always worn that? It looked like a wedding band.

I snuck a glance at his face. Surely I would know if James had been married. We'd been in each other's lives for far too long for that to be a surprise.

He quirked an eyebrow before looking over at me. "What?"

"Just wondering if you're purposefully trying to kill us." I sniped automatically. He rolled his eyes and went back to staring at the road. In my defense, he was driving ninety in a seventy-five zone.

I had never really taken the time to study James. Physically, at least. I knew everything about his grade stats, every promotion and side project he'd gotten since we started at Spectrum. But I had never really looked at the guy. I'd spent all of my time avoiding it, actually.

His hair was wild, like he didn't do anything to it after rolling out of bed this morning. It was entirely unprofessional. Compared to my styled hair, he looked like a frat boy.

Underneath that unkempt mess, he did have a strong yet delicate face. His cheekbones were sharp, jaw nearly deadly enough to cut glass. He had really bright hazel eyes, too. I couldn't see them right now, with his gaze focused on the highway in front of us, but I knew they would be an intense hazel, framed with long lashes and perpetually quirking eyebrows.

He had a handsome face. I was sure it had paved the way for the carefree, easy life he led.

I pivoted to look out the window. Gripping the thermos tightly in my hands, I tried to shake the thoughts out of my head. I didn't need to be getting distracted by...what? By James' good looks?

I was jealous, that was all. I was jealous that everything came so easily to him, that he had never had to work at anything.

I ignored him as best I could. We only made it another thirty miles down the road before he was singing loudly to the songs to the radio, grinning as he blared Bon Jovi loudly enough to burst my eardrums.

I glared at him, feeling even as I did how weak it was. "You could not be more annoying." I said.

James grinned, winking, and turned the radio up louder. He started to pound on the steering wheel with his hands. I could feel the beat of the music in my bones.

I groaned and ran my hands down my face. James stopped singing long enough to laugh loudly at me.

At noon, we stopped for gas and burgers. "We could just eat while we drive." I suggested.

James looked at me like I had suggested we drive off a cliff. "Fuck that."

"What? Are you kidding? We'll save an hour!"

"We are not bringing food into my baby."

"If you aren't a good enough driver to eat, I'd be happy to take over." I smiled as nicely as I could.

James pointed his finger at me, glared, and then jabbed the air again before storming past me into the diner.

I rolled my eyes and followed him. "Hey." I shoved at his shoulder lightly. He spun around with narrowed eyes. "You can't just ignore everything I suggest."

"Oh, wow, good point." He said, sarcasm dripping off his every syllable. "But you can't keep suggesting dumb things."

"It's not dumb for me to drive!" I threw my hands up in frustration. A few of the diner patrons turned to look at us. I fought the urge to flip them off.

"It is." He insisted firmly, before turning around and storming off to a booth. He slid into one side and grabbed a menu, hunching down so it covered his face.

I grumbled under my breath about hostile working environments and sat across from him. My foot tapped incessantly against the linoleum floor. I could practically see James' hackles rise at the sound but, surprisingly, he stayed quiet.

I didn't bother to open the menu. The waiter came with a wary look on his face.

"Um, welcome to Bobby's." He glanced between us as if we were going to yell at him. I felt momentarily guilty for not yelling at James outside, away from the diner staff. "What can I get you guys?"

James set the menu down and quirked an eyebrow at me. I was going to shave them off, I really was. "Can I get a water to drink, and then a hamburger with a side salad, please?"

The guy scribbled on his menu. "Dressing?"

"Italian on the side."

James was looking at me again, his face scrunched up and cocked slightly to the side, as if I were confusing to him. The waiter turned to him.

"I'll have a Coke." He said, tearing his eyes away from me to smile politely at the waiter. "And I'll have the Bobby's Burger special, please."

The waiter nodded. "Of course. Do you want that with a fried egg on top? Onion rings on the side or fries?"

"How about yes?" James grinned. The waiter laughed. And I felt nauseous just considering it.

"All right, I'll get that in for you guys."

I kept tapping my foot. James leaned with his head on his fist, scrutinizing me. I tried not to fidget under his gaze.

Something about his steady glare was exactly like Harris's. It made me just as nervous to sit under James' eye as it did my boss's, and that, alone, ticked me off.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the text messages I'd gotten so far. One from Grandma, God bless her, reminding me to check in, signed with her full name. Two from Logan, and one from Camille telling me to ignore Logan because she was mad at him. I typed out responses to them.

"Is your phone actually on this time?"

Heat burned my ears. I glared at my phone, but refused to answer him. He chuckled.

Our food came fairly quickly. The waiter dropped off our drinks and came back with my burger and salad. It took him two trips to bring all of James' food.

His burger was steaming, dripping with grease. I had never seen so much cheese on a single item of food before. He had a plate of onion rings and a bowl of fries, and my stomach hurt just looking at it.

"Oh my god." He groaned, tugging the plate closer to him. "This is heaven."

"That," I jabbed my fork at him. "Is a heart attack waiting to happen."

He took a bite, practically unhinging his jaw. I scrunched my nose as him.

With much more enthusiasm than was entirely necessary, James devoured his lunch. He ate with such big bites his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's.

I contemplated the benefits of him dying on this road trip. I'd get time off, probably, for the trauma, and the promotion would be mine, hands down.

He offered me an onion ring. I finished my salad, ignoring him.

When we got back on the road, I was pretty sure that James was going to pass out at the wheel. When I commented on that, he glared at me and turned the music up louder.

We stopped for gas once more. I tried my hand at convincing him to let me drive again, but James threatened to buy me Powerade instead of flavored water, so I gave in and stayed in the passenger seat.

I did manage to convince him to change the radio station to something less head-banging hair bands. James glared at me for that and muttered something about uncultured swines, but at least there wasn't any more REO Speedwagon playing.

It was even more difficult now ignoring him than it had been before lunch. His every move seemed to grate against my skin, his every breath loud, pressing against me. I couldn't stop myself from staring at him, from noticing the way his jaw twitched when he was passing someone on the road, his spine straightening when he recognized a song. How my own spine tingled in response to him singing out loud.

Even the car's scent-citrus, bright, clean-seemed to pale in comparison to him. His shampoo, or something, smelled like oak trees and honey maple, a heavy scent that clung to me every time the car turned a little.

I wanted to fling the car door open and let the road take me. I was here for work, and yet all I could think about was how aggravating James was. If there was ever a time to keep my guard up around James, it was on this trip.

I forced myself to lean against the door, closing my eyes, and tried my hardest to ignore James.

At some point, I must have dozed off. I woke up with a sharp jolt. James yawned loudly. I jumped at the sound, head hitting the window I was leaning against.

He laughed, and I glared at him. "Jerk."

"Not my fault you're sleeping on the job."

"The job?" I huffed. "You won't let me do anything."

"It's my car!" James slapped his hand on the wheel. He sounded angry, but his lips were twitching.

"Do you ever take anything seriously?"

He gave me and arched look. "As seriously as you?"

"Yes." I crossed my arms.

He smiled. "Nope."

I groaned. I wanted to punch him. He winked at me, and looked way too delighted by my frustration.

"You're so annoying." I said.

He shrugged one shoulder. I sighed. My head was starting to pulse. "Can we please pull over for the night? You're going to fall asleep at the wheel."

"It's only eight o'clock."

"Yes." I gritted my teeth. "And if we had been switching off like I said, then you wouldn't be so exhausted."

"I'm not exhausted-"

"James. I'm going to kill you."

James pursed his lips together. His eyes were bright, laughing at me with his just his appeasing look. Then his expression smoothed out and he nodded. "Okay. We're like halfway there anyway."

I let out a sigh of relief. If I could just get away from him for a little bit, everything would be fine. We pulled into a motel lot, and I practically leapt out of the car.

"I've got the company card." James said pointlessly. I knew that. He'd been paying for all the gas. "I'll go check us in. Then we can grab some food?"

I nodded. "That sounds good."

James smiled at me, offering me a quick salute before walking off toward the motel lobby. I leaned against the car and sighed heavily.

Come on, Knight, I thought to myself. Pull yourself together.

This trip was going to be the end of me.

Done! So, it looks like it'll be an...interesting trip for these two, to say the least. :P

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!

Again, I hope you all enjoyed! I'm not completely sure when the next chapter will be up, but it will definitely be up by Wednesday at the latest.

Until then!

-Epically Obsessed