Then, more like a boyfriend, he warms up the car, drives it to the front, and leans over the seat to open my door. I am so confused. Am I his prisoner or lover?
On the road, I use a more conciliatory tone and try to explain my friendship with Stacy. “I never would’ve survived high school without her. She was the popular one and I was the tag along. I owe her so much. I wish to God I’d taken her email to heart and arrived earlier.”
The tightness in my throat prevents me from saying more.
“Don’t beat yourself up.” Cole’s right hand leaves the steering wheel to rest on my thigh doing funny things to my insides.
“You can’t possibly understand. I could’ve come home. I should’ve.”
His brow twitches. “What about your job?”
“That’s just it. I work for myself. I’m one hundred percent virtual. I can code anywhere with good Wi-Fi.”
“So whydoyou stay in New York?” His accusations remind me of my mom and my sister.
“Maybe I like living in the city.” Bristling like a porcupine, I cross my arms, and glower but my defiance is wasted on him.
Eyes on the road, he grins. “I get it. There’s culture, music, and art galleries. What have you seen recently?”
“I, uh, can’t remember.”Shit. Busted.
“I’m guessing you seldom leave your apartment. Am I right?” The truth of his statement stings.
“No. I’ve gone to a few shows.”Great, now I sound like a petulant toddler.
His voice softens. “Danni, you don’t like crowds. Why stay?”
“It’s safe.” I hate how he’s able to dig under the surface and find the truth. It may make him a good cop but it sucks as I try to maneuver the murky waters of a new relationship.
Cole puts his foot to the pedal, passes a truck, and scoffs. “Safer than Mayberry, USA?”
“Forget it.”
“I’m sorry. Explain. I’m listening.” Back in the slow lane, his hand raises to the back of my neck. Firm fingers massage the tension gathered there.
Do I admit to him I’m a coward?“In New York, no one cares how I’d rather code all day than chit chat over coffee. No one minds if I stay up all night writing my dating application. In fact, in my neighborhood, I can have lunch at two AM and there’s others doing the same.”
“So, you do like living there.”
Not really. Damn the man. Why does he ask such invasive questions?Out my side window, fields of hay, stick out from under a light covering of snow and branches coated with ice, glisten. “I don’t know.”
“What happened to you in high school, Danni?”
Even after all this time, my words’ bitter veracity come as a surprise. “Other than having my sneakers stolen, invited to non-existent parties, and having lies told about me on social media?”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” His voice lowers.
Can I forgive him? Hundreds of images with him being an asshole during homeroom flood my brain. “Yeah, well. You were in your own world back then. Remember Sydney Mayweather?”
Frown lines form around his mouth and his eyes darken. “You were Little Miss Perfect. You pissed me off. Everything came so easy to you.”
“Why, because I had good grades? I studied hard for those.” I glare at his thick, pursing lips.
“I hated how you came from money.”
“Are you serious? I shopped at second hand stores. My sister would tear clothes up and resew them. My parents were so in debt, they couldn’t even co-sign my student loans. If I didn’t get a scholarship, I wasn’t going to college. But hey, enough about me. How come you came back? I don’t recall you loving Middlebury all that much.”
I realize my voice has risen and take a deep breath. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer.”
