“In my seat! Moron.”
I burst out laughing at the umpteenth imitation of my voice.
“Since when do you do impressions? You’re terrible,” I taunted.
“Since a stubborn chick throws fits and doesn’t do what I say.”
I rolled my eyes, but he stood, still staring at me. Was he serious? Should I sit in his seat?
“Go on, White.”
“What?”
“I’m warning you, I’m losing my patience.”
I opened the car door to shoot him a sharp look.
“Do you want me to drive?”
He nodded smugly.
“Are you crazy all of a sudden or were you already crazy?” I exclaimed, making him laugh.
“I might be. Move before I change my mind!” I got out of the passenger’s seat. James sat in my seat as I got into his. I was overtaken by a chill I hadn’t seen coming when I closed the car door. His hand was firmly grasping my thigh.
“Everything is fine.”
His gruff voice vibrated in the darkness.
“No, no.”
“That wasn’t a question. Everything is fine,” he demanded, his sparkling eyes gazing at me.
I felt strange butterflies around my chest.
“But now grab the steering wheel and get a move on.”
I started the car and drove to my house.
“Go straight, I told you!”
“I am!”
“No, you’re driving into a ditch!”
“But it’s dark!” I exclaimed, amused.
A strong sensation of intoxication took me by surprise, so I pressed the gas pedal.
“Can you go slow? What the fuck!”
“Wow.” I exploded, pleased by the wonderful sensation of rediscovered control.
“Don’t press too much, you drank, remember that,” he said seriously.
“Yeah.”
“And don’t take your hands off the steering wheel! What the fuck! You started off well, you were driving.” I heard him groan. “Driving like a crazy old lady, but still better than a crazy daredevil.” We were on the street leading to my block, so I asked him.
