“Thank you,” I reply.
Heath drives slowly as the rain gains momentum, drumming hard against the windshield. His eyes stay focused on the road as he switches lanes and makes turns.
I’ve seen him drive before, but I’ve never noticed how incredibly attractive he looks while doing it. Even in a weather like this, he commands the car with such skill that comes naturally to him.
“Who taught you to drive?” I wrap my arms around me and get comfortable in the seat.
I know he wants to know what happened but I don’t want to talk about it right now.
Heath stops at a red light. The roads are empty and the shops are closed. If he wanted to he can break the signal, but he doesn’t. As if he is stretching the moment, hanging onto the calm before the storm unleashes.
The way his jaw ticks and his hands tighten around the steering wheel, makes it clear he’s livid.
And that makes me nervous.
I don’t like anger. I know what it makes one do.
His head turns as if he can sense my fears. A switch happens instantly. His eyes soften and his face loses the anger.
He changes himself for me.
Reaching over, he places his hand on my thigh, as if it’s second nature to him.
“Derek,” he says.
A jolt of surprise whizzes through me. “Derek?”
He smiles. “Yes.”
“I can’t believe it.”
He huffs out a laugh, but sadness flickers through his eyes. “He wasn’t so bad when my sister was around. He was chill, used to smile and laugh with us.” He sighs. “I was fourteen when he taught me in our driveway on his old Subaru. It was manual?—”
“What’s manual?” I ask.
“There is a gear stick so you can switch gears,” he explains calmly.
I look down and see a stick. “So this is manual?”
Instead of taking away his hand that is resting over my thigh, he lifts off the one from the steering wheel and point it to the centre console and the handles on the side of the steering wheel.
“It is both.”
“Is that possible?”
He nods with a hint of a smile while I try to wrap my head around it. Clearly, I know nothing about cars. Only books.
The light changes to green. Pressing hard on the gas, he goes right and then slows down again.
“What changed Derek?” I blurt.
His hand tightens on my thigh, fingers stretching and reaching the inner side, eliciting tingles that make me shift a little. Heat gathers in the pit of my stomach.
“Emery’s death,” he says in a grim tone. “They were close. He saw her like a granddaughter and adored her. He wasn’t as grumpy or robotic like he is now. He used to be human.”
“How was he with you?”
“He was nice. He didn’t like me much because of my hatred for my dad. He wasn’t okay with it. Apparently, he knew why they had sent us here and always said that it was for a reason. I tried to extract that information out of him multiple times, but he never gave it up.”
