“What? No, not like that. To visit Bluebeard. If it’s okay. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Oh. Too bad.” Too bad? But he continues before I’ve had time to process. “Of course you can. I promise he’s still alive. It’s not like I’ve been starving him.”
“I never said you were.” Why does he have to be so infuriating? Misunderstanding everything I say on purpose. “I just want to visit. See how he’s settling in.”
“No problem. We do roommate dinners every Sunday. You can join us. There’s always way too much food. Dev cooks enough to feed the entire team for a week. Bonus points for deliciousness. He’s a fantastic cook.”
My heart sinks. “I don’t want to interrupt your roommate bonding time or anything. I can come another day.” He reaches out when I turn to leave, trying not to let the disappointment drag my shoulders down. His palm is a solid weight on my shoulder.
“It’s fine. My sister is going to be there anyway. I could use the backup. I’m still not a hundred percent used to her and Lucy together.”
“Are you sure? The other guys won’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure, Wilder. Besides, like I said before, I’m pretty sure JJ is half in love with you. And the other guys are cool. Come on. I’m parked out back. You got all your stuff?”
I swing my backpack around to show him, nodding.
“Good. Let’s go.”
He pivots, long strides eating up the hallway, and I have to rush after him to keep up. Once again, he’s thrown me off balance.
It’s easy to sink into the soft leather seat of his high-end SUV. Guilt is riding me as I look around the immaculate interior. Anywhere but at him. Not a speck of dust on the dashboard or a smear of dirt on the mats. An impressive feat for late winter here in Michigan. It shouldn’t surprise me judging by his general appearance, but I think I was expecting to uncover some flaw in here. But the air smells like a fresh breeze just blew through rather than a sweaty equipment bag, and there’s not a single empty cup or crumpled receipt.
He lets me sit there, studying his car, while trying to tamp down the curiosity that’s been riding me since he made the comment about his life. I shouldn’t want to dig deeper. Get to know him better. But I do. I can’t help it. Maybe it’s all part of his plan. Lure me into blurting out all my secrets. The way he leaves silences hanging in the air… it’s like an open invitation to fill with confessions.
“I really am sorry.” I finally blurt out, rotating my neck the tiniest bit to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He’s sitting at the wheel, back straight, one hand casually restingon the top of the leather-wrapped wheel, the other tapping a repeating rhythm on his knee.
“For what?” He sounds confused, as if the things I’ve been freaking out about had zero impact.
“For calling you an entitled rich asshole. Basically.”
“Did you call me an asshole?” The car glides to a stop at a red light, and the hybrid engine powers down. It’s eerie. He takes his eyes off the road for a moment, turning to me with a curved blond brow.
“Well, not exactly.”
“But that’s what you meant to say?”
I pick at the perfect purple polish coating my nails. Peeling at the smooth surface until a satisfying chip appears, I’m immediately annoyed with myself. Now I’m going to have to repaint that one.
“No.” Shit. “That’s not what I meant. I was tired, and I let the hunger monster possess my vocal cords. It was a bitch move.”
“Did you not eat today? I’ve got snacks. Dinner will probably be ready when we get back to my place, but if you need to eat now, help yourself. They’re in the glove box.”
He lets people eat in his car? No way am I falling for that. I’d be afraid of getting a single crumb on the upholstery. I wonder if he has one of those mini vacuums stashed in the back. But that’s beside the point.
“I’m good. And it’s not an excuse, but it’s true. I have no idea what your life is like, and I shouldn’t be judging you based on appearances.”
He laughs. “So, you think I look like a rich asshole?”
Um, obviously yes.
“I get it. And I am. You’re right. But it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Yeah?” I leave the question lingering in the space between us, turning to face the window. Houses and trees slide by as I try his own trick on him, hoping he’ll fill the silence.
He doesn’t respond for so long I think I’ve failed, but then he clears his throat. “Yes, I’ve had all the privileges you can imagine growing up. The best clothes, vacations, cars. But there are certain expectations that come with being born into the Whitaker family. Like my sister. You’ll get to know her a little better tonight. Or a lot. She’s a little more open than I am. And by that, I mean she’ll be happy to tell you her life story before dessert.”
“You guys eat dessert?”
