She tugs the passenger door open and props a boot onto the step bar, glaring at me through the cab when I open the opposite one.
“Get in the truck,” I order, sliding inside.
When I close the door, the harsh slam rattles through me. I ignore it and turn the ignition. Tilly finally listens and shuts her door more softly than I did.
“This is going to be a long drive if you’re a dick to me the entire time,” she says once we’ve pulled onto the road.
“We don’t need to talk.” I wring the steering wheel. “And I’m not the only one acting like that.”
“You don’t want to talk for the next three hours?”
“Would you prefer we argue?”
She starts fiddling with the radio, poking at the buttons until a country song starts playing. It’s the new shit, something about heartbreak in a small town. Shocker.
“You didn’t even ask if I had put my things in the truck before we left,” she mutters.
I glance at her, blinking in disbelief. “I’m not your keeper.”
“Considering I’m supposed to be grooming some old prick’s horses while we’re stuck at his ranch, it would have been nice for you to ask.”
“Did you get your things?” I ask tightly.
“Yeah. They’re in the back.”
My nostrils flare with the force of my exhale. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You used to have manners. Where’d they go?”
“So, you do want to argue, then.”
“Why does it have to be an argument? Just answer my question without putting up a fight.”
“You’re only asking questions that you know will lead to a fight.”
Sitting up against the brown leather seat, she digs her elbow into the console and stares at me. I can feel her concentration scraping at my cheek.
“How long have you been competing again?”
Alright then.“Two years.”
“Only two?”
“I couldn’t while I was on parole. Wasn’t allowed outside of Alberta.”
I tighten my hold on the steering wheel as the unease of talking about that time in my life rears its head. It’s been a while since I’ve done that.
“Right . . . parole. Ash mentioned it to me before.”
“Curious?”
“About what?”
I almost laugh. “Parole.”
“What is there to be curious about? You got to serve the rest of your sentence not trapped behind bars. I know what it means.”
My chin dips, no words escaping me.
