“I can't,” he retorted, tapping a button I guessed was to switch on the heat. I guessed so because my seat suddenly felt warmer.
I leaned into the leather chair, letting the tension roll off my back.“So you say yet you can pinpoint my feelings to a thought,” I hummed out a sigh pressing my head against the window.
He flexed his grip on the steering wheel. I wasn’t sure why I watched but his hands were awfully tight with tension. “It just comes naturally because we're —” he paused and for a minute, silence haunted us.
“Connected,” I say absentmindedly. The word slipped from my mouth, soft and uncertain.
“I wouldn't say, connected,” Ethan quickly responded as he drove. I turned to study his profile, the set of his jaw, the muscle ticking in his cheek.
“Why not?“ My voice was quieter now
