“Really, Hayden,” I tried desperately as he successfully herded me out of the police station twenty minutes later. “Thank you for all the help, but I don’t need a ride home.”
“Shut up,” he muttered, keeping his hand firmly on my back as he nudged me along. Then he ignored me so he could wave toward the departing lawyer in gratitude before turning back to me and guiding me toward his car. “You and I need to have a little talk,” was all he added as he opened the passenger side door and sent me a meaningful look, silently ordering me to get in.
My lips parted with realization. “Oh my God, you know.”
He lifted an eyebrow but merely said, “Get in.”
I got into the car. He shut the door behind me and rounded the front bumper. But as soon as he was sliding behind the wheel next to me, I was as
