Me.
The road.
Me.
Each time his eyes landed on me, my heart quieted a little more. My edges softened a little more. My vulnerability peaked a little more. My rigidness dissolved a little more.
“What is it, Mr. Grayson?” I asked.
My words were loaded. So was my heart.
His nostrils didn’t spread. His chest didn’t enlarge. His jawline didn’t stiffen.
“Don’t call me that, Royce.” He paused with a sigh.
His gaze felt intrusive. It violated so many regulations in my book. But, it felt as good. As pleasant. As reassuring, and I wasn’t a woman who needed assurance.
Me.
The road.
“Are you okay?”
Me.
The road.
Me.
“I’m okay, Ishmael.”
The road.
Me.
“You can, uh– just take this exit. I’m not very far from here.”
The road.
Me.
“I didn’t ask you where you were staying, Royce.”
This time, he didn’t take his eyes off the road. His gaze didn’t slice right through my core. His dark rounds didn’t open my soul’s portal.
“Ishmael– I–”
“You are going to sit back and shut up, love.”
He turned the volume up on his steering wheel and increased his speed. I didn’t object. I couldn’t.
I pressed my back deeper into the cushion. My lips met with promises not to part.
I wasn’t sure what sounds were coming from the speakers. My ears were flooded with one sound in particular.
Boom.
Boom.
