The drive back was quiet. Mark kept one hand on the wheel, the other pressed against his temple like he was trying to stop a headache. His jaw was clenched and his whole body tense, like he was holding himself back from doing something reckless.
I knew what he was thinking.
He wanted to go after Cholo. Find him. Hurt him for touching me, for messing with my head right in front of him.
But I didn’t want to talk about Cholo. I didn’t want to think about his hands on my face, his voice in my ear, his eyes watching me like I was some kind of puzzle he needed to figure out.
I wanted to forget. And I knew exactly how I could.
Mark didn’t notice when I moved closer, my hand resting on his thigh. He tensed, but he didn’t react. Not yet.
I let my fingers slide higher, deliberate
