Love Like Her (Against All Odds #3) - Claudia Y. Burgoa Page 0,1

want to make sure you write on my grave, ‘Olivia Evelyn Sierra. Loving daughter. Wannabe astronaut. She never grew up to save the world. She died of hypothermia because she wanted to be an adult.’”

I hear a snort close by. When I turn, a guy is staring at me, amused at something I said, or just laughing at me because I might have something on my face. Who knows at this rate? It’s been a long Monday. My only hope is that I didn’t flunk my test or I’m doomed.

“Leave the dramatics to your mother,” Dad states.

I move my focus from tall, hot, dark, and yummy to my conversation. Guys like him are not part of my menu. I haven’t graduated from happy meals yet. Ugh, I need to stop speaking in Holly’s lingo. I sound like her and her latest trend. She compares men with food. According to her, fooling around is a happy meal. Eating an entrée is going all the way with a guy.

“Liv, it’s too close to Christmas, and there aren’t any rooms available in the area. I could search in New Jersey, but I doubt you’ll find a cab to take you there,” Dan says.

“Hey, Dan,” I greet him. “How upset is Dad?”

“The usual. He’ll cool down by the time you’re home, sweetheart,” he assures me. “I’ll transfer some money to your debit card. If I find a hotel room, I’ll call you. Stay at the airport.”

“Thank you, Dan,” I say, chastising myself because I forgot my phone charger in the car.

“Call if you need me. Please, don’t be reckless.”

“I’m a daredevil,” I joke.

“You’re not,” he states. “But sometimes you don’t think about the consequences—like your father.”

When Mom says I’m a lot like my father, I’m not sure if she does it to insult me, complain about my personality, or remind me he’s despicable. He’s not. After so many years, I’ve learned to differentiate between her spiteful remarks and reality. When Dan says it, it’s just a statement. He doesn’t say it to hurt me. I also know he adores Dad. So, even if I do stuff that he doesn’t approve of, I amuse him and he loves me.

“Love you, Dan,” I say before hanging up.

“Love you too, Livy girl.”

I wish I could call Mom and ask her to bail me out of this one. She won’t.

My parents are upset because I changed their schedule. They prefer not to split holidays, summers, or birthdays. Unfortunately for them, I’m an adult. Their custody agreement doesn’t apply anymore. Fortunately for me, I can go wherever I want.

My phone rings, and it’s Holly, my best friend.

“Hi.”

“Hey, girl,” she squeals. I move the phone away from my ear.

“You seem to be excited.”

“My bestie is almost home.”

Holly and I have been friends since we were in preschool. Her family lived right across the street from us. When my parents divorced, Dad and Dan made sure I stayed in touch with Holly and a few other friends from the neighborhood. Out of all my friends, Holly is the one with whom I connect with the most.

“Or she won’t be there until Wednesday.” I sigh and tell her everything that’s happened to me. The flat tire on my way to Halifax airport, the storm, and my father not paying for my hotel room.

“You want me to check if there are any hotels?”

“I only have two hundred dollars.” I don’t know how much money Dan is going to add to my account, but I’d rather not misuse it. What if I have a real emergency? “The only hotel I could afford is one of those where they give you a brick for a pillow and a bat to kill the roaches.”

Again, the guy close by laughs. I itch to reach for my camera and snap a picture of him.

He’s dreamily handsome. He’s tall with dark, sexy, unruly hair. His dark scruffy jaw makes him look older, but his big dark melted chocolate eyes tell a different story. He’s young. The guy is probably in college. He has a boyish smile and a dimple in his left cheek.

A shiver runs up and down my spine when his eyes sweep my body from head to toe and winks at me.

Melting.

He’s so hot.

“Do I amuse you?”

He smirks and winks. “You’re entertaining.”

“Who is that?”

“Some guy who is listening to my conversation,” I respond.

“Is he hot?”

“You have no idea.”

“Take a picture of him,” Holly requests.

“At the moment, I’m busy trying to figure out how not to die of