“Now you’re awake,” he says and sets his cup down.
“What?” I ask again, brows furrowing.
He nods to my suitcase. “That everything you’re bringing?”
My frown deepens. “That and my backpack…” But I don’t finish the thought because he’s moving to the table where my knapsack is, snagging it and my suitcase. “What are you?—?”
But then he’s striding for the hall, tossing over his shoulder, “Finish your coffee.” A beat.
“Then we need to head to the airport.”
SIXTEEN
Damon
The tension isrampant in my car as I drive, thick enough I can cut it with a knife.
I ignore it and just drive steadily through the curved roads leading down from Joey’s place and out toward the airport.
The guys meet at the practice rink and take the bus over, but there’s enough parking that Joey and I usually park directly at the private airfield itself. Of course, usually Joey and I drive separately.
Hence the tension.
“Gonna clue me in why you’ve kidnapped me and my luggage?”
“Don’t think I can actually kidnap luggage.” I glance over at her when I feel the tension ratchet tighter. “Just saying.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just saying,gonna clue me in as to why you’ve kidnapped me andstolenmy luggage?”
I focus back on the road, mouth curving. “Nope.”
There’s a long blip of quiet.
Then she asks archly, “Nope?”
I flick my gaze to hers before looking forward again. “Yup,” I say. “Nope.”
The silence descends a second time, for long enough that the airport appears in the distance. But thankfully her impatience arrives before the turnoff for the parking lot. “Damon,” she says softly. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I told you.”
She exhales sharply. “No, you haven’t. You got a bee in your bonnet”—my mouth curves because that’s funny as fuck—“about something that shouldn’t matter to you.”
I react before I stop to think, jerking the wheel, pulling us over to the shoulder and spinning in my seat, glaring down at her. “It shouldn’t matter to me?” I growl, leaning toward her. “It shouldn’t fuckingmatter?”
“Look.” She leans back, rubbing a hand over her forehead, but I don’t miss that as she pushes the hair out of her face, she takes the opportunity to lean back, to put some distance between us.
That pisses me off even more.
She shouldn’t be putting distance between us.
She should be shifting closer, reaching out?—
Fuck.
Enough.
“Look what?” I press.
