My lips pull back into a small smile. “That’s all it took?”
“That’s all it took.”
“You should’ve told me that sooner,” he says. “I would have done anything to see that glint in your eyes again.” Then he suddenly frowns. “You’re pregnant.”
“Oh, geezus Christ.” I pull out of his hold and put some distance between us. “I just got off yourdeathcontraption.Now,you want to suddenly be cautious?”
“I was driving.”
My jaw sets, and a tinge of anger starts to creep up my veins. “And you’re saying I can’t?”
Cairo regards me for a brief second—a second too long—before saying, “No.”
“Then we’re good?”
Another second.
I swear to God, he’s in the running with Pretty Boy on how much I want to throttle him every time we’re within arm’s length.
“We’re good,” he deadpans, but the thought is still there. His hesitation is he doesn’t want me to race.
But he doesn’t stop me.
That should appease me, right? I’m getting what I want, after all.
Yet he’s in my head. Myconditionis in my head. Haven’t evenbegunto figure out what the fuck I’m going to do about it. It’s another secret. I don’t want to hold anymore, but here we are.
“You don’t want me to race,” I convey evenly. “Go ahead and say it.”
“I’m not going to say that.”
“Why?” I challenge. “We both know?—”
“I just said I’m not going to say that,” he grinds out. “Fuck off.”
My expression goes sky high because look who’s getting defensive now. “I’d respect you more if you were straight up with me.”
“You’d respect me more if I smacked your ass a few dozen times. Don’t push my kindness, Little Terror. I just said it was fine.”
A heavy silence falls between us before he lets out a heavy sigh and steps forward, looking over my head at whatever’s behind me, and pulls me back into his chest.
Then nothing.
“I won’t do anything reckless.”
“Mhm.”
“I won’t,” I assure him. “I promise.”
“I heard you.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
His gaze descends to me. “What else do you want from me, Little T? I said you could race. I’ll help make it happen. What more do you want?”
I can’t help the frown drawn on my face, but I don’t wash it away either. “I want you to believe me.”
“I do.” He leans forward, and I anticipate the smell of patchouli to infiltrate my nose, but I smell the faint fragrance of weed and…roses?
