“Are there any peanuts in this?” I ask.
“None.” She shakes her head. “Why?”
I jab my finger in Calder’s direction. “He’s allergic.”
“I’ll remember that,” she promises.
As we exit through the kitchen, my brain is whirling.
“This is your car?” I gape at the latest Porsche. What kind of student can afford wheels like this?
“It’s new.” He hops from one foot to the other. “Do you drive often?”
For the first time since we met, he actually seems nervous.
“This will be the first time since I crashed,” I lie. Why not make him squirm? He doesn’t need to know I’m a fantastic driver. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Calder’s face pales as he slides into the passenger seat next to me, watching me like a hawk.
“Most students don’t bring flashy cars to campus,” I mutter as the engine hums to life, lighting my excitement.
I slam my foot on the gas— intentionally too hard—and the car lurches forward, juddering. Calder gasps like he’s taken a bullet to the chest, making me feel a little better.
Calder hangs onto his seat. “We could call a cab.”
I pull away. “Too late.”
In my rearview mirror, I spy a flock of reporters starting to gather in front ofTheValley Voicebuilding.
As we approach a narrow bend, Calder inhales sharply, only breathing a sigh of relief after I navigate the curve expertly.
“You’re a good driver.” A tinge of panic still lingers in his voice. “You were messing with me about the crash, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously.”
“Thank fuck.” He exhales deeply. “I guess I assumed the daughter of Richard Sinclair wouldn’t have had to drive herself anywhere.”
At home, Dad has a whole garage filled with cars—everything from classics to sports cars. He prefers that I use one of our chauffeurs, but sometimes a driver will let me take a spin, or I’ll hit a racecourse for fun.
“You’re a reporter,” I hurl back. “You should know better than to make assumptions.”
“So what’s the story with your pack?” He changes the subject. “For someone supposedly loved up, you don’t seem that happy about the news breaking.”
I slam on the brakes unnecessarily harshly as a light turns yellow.
I point ahead. “We’re not far from Omega Village.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“The situation with my pack is none of your business.”
“Maybe I want it to be my business.”
I swallow hard, trying to ignore the possibility that he’s flirting. His gravelly growl does something to me.
Am I perfuming?! Holy shit, I am. My scent fills the car despite the copious amount of scent blocker I’m wearing. Calder’s entire body tenses, making the muscles in his forearms ripple. I need out of this car. Fast.
After having sex with Ezra, my hormones have been out of whack. Although my suppressants are top of the range, it’s been a long time since I’ve gone through a true heat. Postponing a natural and inevitable bodily function can take its toll on your body. Now I can understand why Sabs is so desperate to find a heat buddy.
