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I never knew I needed her until she came into my life—my beautiful stranger. Bowie was everything I wasn’t. Free. Impulsive. Carefree. With a common destination, we embarked on a road trip. Little did I know, my life was about to change forever.


I never thought he’d become more than a stranger—my dopamine hugger. Hansel was everything I wanted. Caring. Understanding. Giving. I told him we could remain strangers during the road trip but part with good memories. But the best and worst things lie in the unexpected. 


We were never supposed to meet again, but when we did, I wished we had never said hello in the first place.

Tags: Road trip, Strangers to lovers, Angsty Reads, Forbidden Love.

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 Chapter 1

Car Trunk, New York City


Is getting a ride in someone’s car trunk a crime in New York? I hope not since I’m currently curled up in a rental car’s trunk, hoping it will reach my destination.

In my defense, it’s been a shitty forty-eight hours.

It all started two days ago when I was called to the hospital at two in the morning. We were short-staffed, and since I’m the only nurse who lives in the hospital vicinity, my phone rang. After working for two days and nights without rest at the hospital, I was lucky to get a seat on the last flight leaving for San Francisco before the airline strike. And that means I haven’t packed my luggage.

Leaving the hospital, the plan was to quickly grab a hot dog before going home to haul my suitcase into an Uber and get to the airport to catch my flight. But when I left the hot dog stall, my wallet and watch were missing from my purse. Thankfully, my phone didn’t get stolen because it was in my pocket. But my phone battery died, which meant I couldn’t call an Uber, let alone pay for it.

I could have waited for my phone to recharge and then called a friend for assistance—and risk missing the flight—or I could find my ride. Mr. Keno, an eighty-something-year-old man, who lives across the street from the hospital, has a vintage car he rents to car rentals. As I was standing on the road, trying to catch a lift, I overheard him saying to his wife that his car was being delivered to the airport. I wasn’t sure they’d let a stranger get into their car.

Instead of going home to cleanup, I sprayed enough vanilla perfume to wake up the dead (because I didn’t want the person sitting next to me on the flight to think I kill rats for a living) and hopped in his car trunk.

I’ve never done this before. If getting on that flight didn’t mean life and death, I wouldn’t have gotten into this car, but as I said, it’s been a shitty forty-eight hours.

What’s the worst that could happen?

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