THEA
I sit stiffly in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead, hands knotted in my lap.
Ezra’s car is stupidly luxurious. Soft leather seats, faint new-car smell, and probably enough tech embedded into the dash to launch a missile. And still, all I can think about is my car.
Poor baby.
Sitting there. Vulnerable. Alone. Towed.
I grit my teeth and say nothing, chewing on my annoyance like a piece of stale gum.
Beside me, Ezra leans back, his attention on his phone. His thigh brushes mine every time the car dips over a bump, and I’m convinced he’s doing it on purpose.
The city lights blur past in gold and navy streaks. I keep telling myself to breathe. To stay calm. To pretend this is just another day and not some weird alternate universe where my boss drags me to "girlfriend duty"
