He’s clenching his jaw so hard I swear I can hear his teeth grinding. “I think it’s best if you listen to your daddy. You should stay away from me.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Something in his voice makes my chest ache. There’s a finality to his statement that feels like a door slamming shut. I can’t let that happen. I have to reach him. The truck rolls to a stop, and he shifts into Park but keeps the engine running.
The air is thick between us, and he’s looking anywhere but at me.
No.I want his eyes on me. Ineedhis eyes on me.
“Thank you,” I say again softly.
He doesn’t respond and just stares straight ahead, jaw locked tight.
Before I lose my nerve, before I think about all the reasons this is a terrible idea, I move. I shift onto my knees on the bench seat and climb into his lap. Squeezing myself between the steering wheel and the hard lines of his chest, I force his arms off the wheel with my movement.
“Saint.” His voice is strangled. “What are you doing?”
“What I should’ve done a long time ago.” My hands shake as I cup his face. His skin is warm beneath my palms, rough with stubble. “This. My birthday present.”
“Don’t.”
It’s too late to stop me, though, because I’m already leaning in. Already pressing my lips to his.
For one perfect, fragile second, he kisses me back.
His mouth moves against mine with a hunger that ignites a fire deep in my soul. A fire I haven’t felt since my mother died. He grips me by the hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. It feels good. Like I’m alive.
The noise that rumbles from deep within his chest, something between a groan and a growl, vibrates through my core. I need to hear him make that sound again.
The moment shatters when his entire body goes rigid beneath me. He tears his mouth from mine, and the look in his eyes is pure fury. Fear ripples through my belly.
“Get the fuck out.” The sharp words are cutting.
“What?” I’m still in his lap, still close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. “I don’t?—”
“Get. Out.” He’s not even looking at me, more like through me. A vein pulses in his temple, and if I were smart, I’d say that’s the warning before all hell breaks loose.
“I don’t understand. What did I?—”
“Jesus Christ.” Grabbing me by the arms, he physically lifts me off his lap, depositing me back on the passenger seat with enough force that I bounce.
Finally, he turns to face me, and the look in his eyes is ice-cold fury. “Get out. You’re a fucking child playing dress-up in a bar you shouldn’t be in, drinking beer you can’t handle, throwing yourself at men who don’t want you.”
Each word sliced through me, sharp and serrated. My eyes burn with tears before I even think about stopping them.
“I saved you from those men because I’d do it for anyone. That’s it. There’s nothing else here. No connection. No history. Nothing.” His voice drops lower, crueler. “And that kiss? That meant nothing. Less than nothing. You’re a stupid little girl who doesn’t know when to quit.”
“I wasn’t trying to?—”
“I don’t care what you were trying to do.” He leans across the cab, reaching past me to shove open the passenger door. The movement brings him close enough that I can smell the whiskey on his breath, see the barely controlled fury in his eyes. “Get out of my truck. Walk to your door. And never speak to me again unless you want your father to know exactly where you were tonight and what you were doing.”
The threat hangs between us. He’s weaponizing my father’s trust, using it to hurt me. To push me away.
My hands shake as I try to gather my dignity. “I thought you were different. That you might be worth more than this darkness, worth saving.”
“You thought wrong.” He’s still leaning across me, one hand on the open door, his body a wall of leashed violence. “Now get the fuck out before I do something we’ll both regret.”
