Chapter Forty-Three: The Way He Looks at Me
Lyric The drive back to my place was mostly quiet. But not in a bad way. Zay had one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console like he wanted to touch me but didn’t want to push. His playlist played low in the background—something slow and old school. It felt too peaceful for the mess my head was still untangling. I caught him looking at me at a red light. Not checking me out. Looking. Like I was something that made his chest tight. “You hungry?” he asked, eyes back on the road. “Starving.” “Say less.” He swung us into a drive-thru. Chicken, fries, drinks, extra sauce without asking. He knew what I liked. We parked by this little quiet spot on a hill that overlooked a few streetlights and rooftops. Nothing fancy, but peaceful. Private. Ours. We ate in the car. I ha
- Writer
