She yawns as the fuel light pings and sighs like she’s annoyed at the car for not being able to refuel itself.
“There’s a gas station in a couple of miles,” I tell her. “I’ll take the next driving shift.”
“I’m good.”
“It’s either that or we stop at a cheap motel where there will likely only be one room available, and it will only have one bed.”
“What are you talking about?” she says as her face crumples in confusion. Not a reader then. Figures.
“I value my life enough to not risk you falling asleep at the wheel. We swap or stop. Your choice.”
“Fine, we’ll swap, because whatever gibberish you spouted about one bed isn’t happening.”
Isn’t it? We shall see. A slow smile takes over my face.
She pulls into the gas station. “I’m going to grab some snacks,” she mutters. “Do you want anything?”
“I’m easy. Whatever you get, I’m sure I will like.”
She grabs her phone and turns her body toward me. “I want to know what snacks you want. I don’t want to share mine.”
“You don’t share?”
“Never.”
“Good to know. Neither do I,” I rumble.
“I feel like we’re having two different conversations.”
Oh, we certainly are.She rolls her eyes before opening the door and stalking into the store. I make quick work of refueling her car and sliding into the driver’s seat, adjusting it for my height. I’m going to enjoy driving this baby.
Eleanor returns and opens the driver’s door, finding me in her seat. She huffs, slams the door, drops into the leather passenger seat, and secures her seat belt. She changes the temperature back to the arctic blast she seems to enjoy, making me smile. She turns down the classic rock, but leaves the bass settings as they are. I peel out onto the road and thank my lucky stars we are taking a relatively quiet route so I can open this car up. I prefer my bikes, obviously, but the way this handles? The way it hugs the road as I push it around corners too fast for most vehicles? The rumble of the engine that vibrates beneath us? It’s a damn close second.
Eleanor’s phone rings with Fox’s name lighting up the screen.
“I’m fine,” she answers by way of greeting.
“Are you with Hunter?” Fox asks, his voice echoing in the car.
“He’s driving.”
“You’re on his motorcycle?” Honor asks, surprise ringing through her voice.
“Of course not. He’s driving my car.”
I snort. “She’s leaving out the fact her car is a limited edition Audi R8 and handles like a fucking dream.”
“Nice,” Honor responds.
“Where are you heading?” Fox asks, getting us back on track. He never did allow us to have fun on missions.
“One of my places.”
“Texas?” Honor asks.
“That’s right.”
“Good. At least you’ll be in the same state if you need our help.”
