He stared at me for what felt like minutes before the car ignition roared to life, and he was driving off into the city.
My arms crossed tightly over my chest, my blood still thrumming with raw, chaotic adrenaline. Throughout the entire ride, the harsh, persistent buzzing of my phone rang through the silent cabin.
I could feel his dark eyes repeatedly shifting away from the road, flicking from the glowing screen in my lap up to my unreadable face.
"You're not going to take the call?" he asked, his gravelly voice dropping low, laced with a mix of genuine curiosity and that infuriating, teasing edge he always pulled on me.
"Shut up and drive," I snapped without looking at him, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached as I stared fixedly out the side window.
He let out a low, breathy hum,
