Leaning around, I gazed into the back of the SUV. “The back seat is big enough.”
He rubbed over his shadowed jaw with one hand. I wondered if it would feel soft or itchy against my skin. “What the hell are you going on about?”
“The reason you came. I told you that after you picked me up, you could have whatever you want.”
“You have a head injury!” he thundered, making me wince.
“I don’t know what you want,” I said after a moment.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just sit there and be quiet.”
I rolled my lips in and rested my head against the plush leather seat. This car was just really so nice. So much nicer than my?—
“Ah!” I gasped, jolting upright.
“What now?” he asked.
“My car! It’s just sitting on the side of the highway. I need?—”
“What were you doing out driving in this weather?” he asked, cutting me off.
I stared at him.
“Why is it that when I ask you a question, you clam up, but when I tell you to shut it, you run your mouth?”
“Sometimes I think of things and say them,” I replied. Wasn’t it obvious?
He barked a laugh. But I didn’t think it was because he was amused.
My hand forced its way out of his coat and between my lips so I could chew my nails.
Without even taking his eyes off the road, he reached over and tugged my digits free, wrapping his hand around mine and resting them in my lap.
“W-what are you doing?” I asked, bouncing my knee against the seat.
“If you won’t stop biting them, I’ll have to make you.”
I stared down, noting the way his hand was so much bigger, completely consuming mine.
“Why were you driving in this bad weather?”
“I was on my way home from work,” I replied.
“What is your job?”
“Oh, I have a few. Yesterday was Uber Eats. Which is why I need to find my car. I can’t deliver food if I don’t have a car.” Anxiety started building in my stomach, creating a burning sensation. I tried to remember how much damage was done to my Toyota, but the details were hazy.
“You deliver food to God knows where, to God knows who. You drive in terrible weather instead of pulling over…”
“I wanted to go home.” I defended myself.
“And you proposition men on dating apps.”
“I am not a prostitute!” I shouted. Immediately, I regretted it and whimpered, pressing a hand to my head.
The SUV swerved, and the car behind us blasted its horn. I gripped Kieran’s hand so hard that my fingers ached, but he acted like he didn’t notice and came to a stop on the side of the road.
He was kicking me out, probably going to open the door and give me a good shove. I guess I should have been grateful he was kind enough to stop first.
