Free Hunter: Rockstar Romance (The ProVokaTiv Series Book 2) by Cara Nelson Page B

words that spelled out California on it. “Maybe you should get one too, and we can have an ugly sweatshirt party,” Trinity offered.
    “No,” I said, and laughed.
    She started to pull out her wallet to pay for it, and I stopped her, saying it was my treat. However, she was stubborn about it, so I let her. It was so hard to figure things like that out. I never thought about paying for things because I had the money, and well, shit, even if I spent liberally, I still had a lot left over. Money was funny that way. The more you made, the more people wanted to give you things for free.
    “Watch out for the storm coming in,” the old guy said after Trinity paid him.
    “Storm?” I asked.
    “Yeah, it’s that time of year. A cold front is in the mountains, and we’ll be getting a good seven inches, they predict.”
    “When is that starting?” Trinity asked.
    The guy looked at us, and I could tell he was thinking that we were amateurs. Well, he was right. Then he looked outside, and replied, “I guess you could say it’s starting now.”
    “Have a good one,” I said to him, and we walked out. “The restaurant is at least a half hour in the direction of LA so we can make some progress before we stop to eat.”
    We started to make our way toward it, and quickly found out how fast weather can turn in the mountains. There was already a few inches of snow on the ground in just that short amount of time. My rear wheel drive car was not appreciative of it, either.
    A small, trashy hotel was off in the distance, its neon lights blinking on and off, the E in the hotel burnt out. “Do you think we should just stay and head back early in the morning after the snowplows come through?”
    “Probably not a bad idea. You definitely don’t have a car built for snow driving, and we definitely don’t have a kit in your trunk, I’m guessing,” Trinity said.
    “A kit? What do you mean?”
    “You’re definitely not a Midwesterner. You are always prepared for this type of thing, ideally, anyway.”
    “I guess I’m in good hands with Girl Scout Trinity,” I said in a taunting voice.
    “Let’s go see if they have a room before they’re all gone,” she said.
    Luck would have it that they did. We walked into the room, which was a throwback from the 70s, brown plaid bedding, and crusty golden low shag carpeting. It was one of the ugliest things I’d ever seen. Not retro in a cool, funky way—just old.
    “This place might give me nightmares,” Trinity said to me with a laugh. “Even the spare bedroom in my grandmother’s attic was better than this.”
    “Well, it’s better than a car in the ditch for the night, I guess, Trin. Let’s get out of here. Go across the parking lot to that dive bar. They have to have some type of food.”
    We walked out into the wet, heavy snow and trudged across the parking lot, walking through the door of the bar, and right up to an empty counter.
    “Slow night,” I commented to Trinity.
    “No one can claim you’re not astute,” she said back.
    I looked at her, always thrown off by her blunt sassiness, and halfway wanted to tell her to relax for just a minute, or to kiss her. Maybe both.
    “Hi, welcome,” the woman behind the bar said. “What can I get you two?”
    “Food and beer. What type of food do you have?”
    She slid a small menu over. It was a buffet of deep fried temptations, and then a frozen pizza section.
    “Pizza for me,” Trinity said.
    “Sounds good.”
    “Sausage and pepperoni,” she added.
    “That’s all? Kind of boring, isn’t it?” Hunter commented.
    “Nothing about me is boring,” Trinity said.
    “Well, maybe.” I agreed, but I started laughing and ordered that sausage and pepperoni pizza.
    The beer and pizza was good enough, filling our appetite. Then we started shooting pool, and doing shots of Jägermeister . Needless to say, things got a bit more relaxed and crazy.
    “Hey, aren’t you Hunter Martinez?” a younger girl asked. She came out of