“Your Dad wants to meet with me this morning.”
“Does it say for what?” Walker asks, pushing himself off the bed and rubbing his hands down his face, lingering on the scar that slices across his forehead.
“No, it just says to be at his office at…oh fuck. Is that the time?” I jump out of bed and start yanking on my clothes. My stomach cramps up with nerves wondering what the hell he could possibly want now.
“Do you want me to go with?” He asks.
“Actually, I might ask Garrison if I can borrow his car. I don’t have enough time to walk there, and the golf cart service is always so unreliable.”
“You’re going to ask Garrison?”
“Yeah, why not?”
He laughs, “Okay. Good luck.” He kisses my lips and heads down the stairs. I fix my hair and pull my boots on, running up the tower steps to see if Garrison can lend me his car.
I knock three times and hear a grumbly voice as feet stomp over to the door. He yanks it open, eyes looking bleary and still in hisStar Warspajamas.
“What the hell do you want now, Salem?” He asks, rubbing one of his eyes with his hands.
“I need to borrow your car.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh right, manners. Can I please borrow your car?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, princess.”
“But I have to meet with the headmaster. I would really appreciate it.”
He stares at me for a moment and the lets out a sigh. “I’ll drive you.”
“Thank you!” I say hugging him quickly and then bounding down the rickety steps.
Thankfully, Garrison doesn’t take long to get ready and is looking drastically different from his pajama state. He’s in a full suit, watch gleaming against the sunlight as his shoes crunch in the snow. I take a second to enjoy that the clouds aren’t imposing on the island for once, even if it’s cold as fuck out here.
He unlocks the car and I jump in, snow falling off my shoes onto the car’s floor.
He glares at me, before sitting with his feet still sticking out of the car while he bangs his shoes together, watching chunks of snow fall off. He slides his feet in. “That’s how it’s done.” He says to me as he starts his car.
“Why did you just do that?” I ask with a giggle.
He turns the heat on full blast as we peel out of the parking lot. “Because I don’t want a puddle on my nice car floor.” He says pointedly, looking down at where my shoes have tracked snow in.
“So, what’s your deal?” I ask, drawing a heart on the fogged-up window. He looks over at me with a scowl.
“No deal. I just like things a certain way.”
“And what way is that?”
“My way.”
“Must make for an interesting time in the bedroom.” I say half-under my breath, but he still hears me, whipping his head to look at me.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of.” His intense stare makes my cheeks heat as my mind wanders, imagining his domineering presence dictating exactly how he wants things done.
