I huff and look away again, crossing my arms tighter. “Drive the f*****g car, Damien.”
He laughs under his breath, clearly enjoying this way too much, and finally pulls out.
As we drive, I try to focus on literally anything else. The road. The streetlights. My breathing. Not the guy beside me whose presence is messing with my entire system.
But then he speaks again, softer this time.
“You didn’t have to come.”
I glance at him. “You literally threatened to drag me out.”
“Still,” he says. “You came.”
I roll my eyes, but my voice comes out quieter. “I was hungry.”
“Sure,” he murmurs, like he doesn’t believe me for a second.
I hate that he reads me so easily.
And I hate even more that a part of me doesn’t mind.
I shift in my seat, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my che
