Chapter 3
Day 3, Friday
“Scooch over,” Boyd told Oliver the moment that the sun peeked over the horizon. However, instead of getting in the front seat, Boyd took a few minutes, propped against the front of the car, to watch the colors light the sky. It had been a display that put the lights of Vegas to shame, and one that Boyd would have loved to keep forever. He’d never been a snapshot guy, for some reason photographs gave him the creeps. But if there’d been another way—if he’d had the talent to paint it or recreate it in words—Boyd would have considered trying. Boyd didn’t make his way back to the driver’s door until the pinks and the oranges had been replaced with blue sky, and when he saw Oliver still stretched out across the seat, he reached in and unceremoniously shoved Oliver upri
