My hangover had mostly faded by the time we got to the location we'd chosen for our second experiment.
I still hated Colin a little bit for being bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (figuratively…I hadn't asked him to shift so I could check) the minute we woke up, but he'd bought me a triple mocha with extra whipped cream on the way, so he'd earned my forgiveness for metabolising bourbon so much faster than I could.
This time, we'd chosen to go somewhere that wasn't even officially a hiking trail, just a chunk of wilderness that could only be accessed by parking along the side of a mostly abandoned highway.
We took a minute, propped against the hood of the car, to finish our coffee and make sure we had a solid plan.
His plan, anyway. Solid was up for debate, but I had to admit it sounded more likely to work than yesterday's fiasco.
Either way, it was definitely a better day for feeling creeped out than it had been the previous afternoon.
