CHAPTER 3
Tristin was upset. "God, dumb people really suck!" he exclaimed.
He parked his Land Rover a couple of feet from the car he barely missed. Hitting his hazard lights on, he decided to leave a piece of his mind on the car that was barely off the highway.
His purposeful strides suddenly broke into a run when he saw a head slumped over the steering wheel through the windshield of the car. His heart started racing. His fingers were rummaging through his pockets to find his cell phone.
"Agh!" he called out when he remembered that his phone was on the dashboard of his vehicle. Deciding to just check up on the unconscious person, he pulled on the driver's door which was conveniently unlocked. The four-way flashers ticking from his SUV in the night competed with his racing pulse. He stared at the red lights and then back to the driver in the car. He squatted beside the slumped figure.
"Are you okay?" he asked as he tried shaking the driver to consciousness. Big blue eyes met his gaze. Devil be damned, it's Rory Gilmore!