Mine say,how dare you glare at me for agreeing with you.
Landon’s hand—the uninjured one—shoots out. “I’ll take it from here. Give me your keys.”
I clutch my keys to my chest, backing up a step. I have a feeling he’s not offering to drive Parker to be nice, but because he doesn’t trust me.
“I can drive him,” I assure. “It’s no problem, really.”
“I’ve seen the way you drive. I don’t want you driving him.”
Yup. There it is.
“What’s wrong with the way I drive?” I demand.
“You treat the lanes like they’re suggestions,” he says slowly.
“How would you know?” My eyes widen in horror. “Have you beenfollowingme?”
His face twists, like how dare I imply that he’s dedicated any amount of time or attention to me and my driving. “I ended up behind you once,” he tells me. “Recognized the layer of pollen coating your windshield and the dent in the bumper. Got a front row seat to the ensuing drag race.”
My jaw clenches at his description, and I toss him the keys, mostly because I want to see him hold the fluffy pink pom pom at the end of the keychain. “Fine. Take them.”
He snatches them out of mid-air, frowning down at the furry adornment. “What the hell is this thing?”
“I’ll explain on the drive,” I say, moving toward the door.
“No. You won’t. You’re not coming.”
“I am. It’s my car.”
“I’ll take him in my car, then.”
“You could…but my car’s blocking in your car, and if I have to go to the effort of moving mine, then I might as well just drive him home.”
Landon stares at me. A muscle in his cheek twitches. “Fine.”
I beam at him. “Great! Can we stop at McDonald’s on the way? I’m starving.”
ELEVEN
“You passed it! It was right there,” I groan from the back seat, watching the giant golden arches fade into the distance.
“Whoops,” Landon says.
“How could you miss it?”
“My view was obstructed by the massive amount of garbage littering your dashboard,” he responds, flicking one of the furry, purple dice hanging from the rearview mirror.
“It’s not garbage,” I grumble. “It’s decoration.”
“This cookie is really good, Violet,” Parker cuts in, glancing back at me from the passenger seat. He takes a few more quick bites of the one in his hand, polishing it off.
I beam at him. “Want to know the secret?”
He nods.
“They’re gluten-freeandsugar-free,” I state, raising my voice so Landon is sure to pick up on the emphasis.
Parker looks at Landon. “Hey, Landon, you can eat one.”
