The rest of the dinner goes about the same—well overall, if a bit tense at times. I can tell Lindsay and Heather bought my story well enough, but Kieran’s jaw and posture remain tight throughout the dinner, and he doesn’t say much.
When it’s over, we all exchange hugs and tentatively agree to see each other again soon. The valet pulls up the Tesla, Heather nods in approval, and Kieran gets the door for me. Once he’s safely seated in the driver’s seat, he asks, “Where to?”
I’m a bit surprised by his question. It’s pretty much assumed at this point that if we’re spending time together, I’m staying at his place. “Yours.”
He nods, puts the car in gear, and pulls out in silence.
“Kieran,” I say after a few minutes of quiet. “Something wrong?”
The arm that’s holding the steering wheel seems
