I click the stereo.The Four Seasons, it is. If this doesn’t turn his frown upside down, cheer him right the hell up and all that jazz, nothing will.
Vivaldi’s violins float through the interior in a matter of seconds. The calming, melodic notes both energize me and soothe my nerves.
Until I sense Kellin’s eyes on me.
I glance at him. “What?”
“When you said the classics, I thought you meant Skynyrd, The Stones, The Eagles. You know, classics from the last century.”
I groan. “Dude.The Four Seasonsis basically the ‘Free Bird’of classic-almusic. Broaden. Your. Horizons.”
No one puts down my taste in music.
I don’t worry about falling for this guy. That I love how he takes care of me and screws me like his life depends on it. The fact that a simple smolder from him drenches my panties doesn’t alarm me. Nor does the urge to wallow in his sheets to cover myself in his scent.
My biggest fear is that he’ll leave, and I’ll never see him again.
Even so, I refuse to let him intimidate me into changing who I am. Not even a minor alteration, like my taste in music.
I grew up around men scarier than the Irish Adonis sitting shotgun.
Pull your head out of your ass and get over your pissy little mood.That’s what I want to say.
He gave me a taste of what togetherness could mean, filling an undefinable void in my heart.
Though I’m loathe to scare him away, he should learn that I’m not afraid of being alone.
I crank the volume up.
Oh, look at that.
Kellin puts his phone down and rests his hand on my leg. Though perfunctory, the touch at least acknowledges his shift in mood since receiving that string of texts.
I can cut him some slack.
When his phone rings, he silences it.
“Everything okay?”
A nod.
I try again. “You know you can answer that.”
“I’ll just call them once we get to the hotel. Boring business stuff.”
I doubt boring business could trigger his current grim disposition, but whatever. Nothing I can do if he refuses to talk.
Kellin stares out his window. Rolls it halfway down, then halfway up, then back down a quarter. Fidgets with his phone again.
Ugh, this is awkward.
I attempt a smile I do not feel. “Big day?”
“Who’s staying in the penthouse?”
I blink at the abrupt change of subject, glancing from the road to him and back again. “Um…what?”
Where the hell did that come from?
