The light turns green, but Echo makes no move to start driving again. He just keeps his eyes firmly locked on mine, even as the cars behind us start honking their horns.
“Echo, it’s green.” I say, glancing at the road. “Drive.”
“As you wish.”
Echo takes his foot off the brake and presses the accelerator, but his gaze still hasn’t moved from me.
“What are you doing?” I say, flicking my eyes between him and the road in front of us. “Stop looking at me and put your eyes on the road.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I’m not looking away until you give me an honest answer.”
“I am being honest.”
“You’re not, and you know exactly how I know that.”
It dawns on me then. Echo watches me. He has been since we met, and he’s never once tried to hide it.
Motherfucker.
That night. That night I stupidly dry-humped him and felt so incredibly wound up after he left that I had no choice but to finish myself.Fuck.Did I moan his name? Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did.
I stare at Echo, and I hate that the smug smile on his face makes him look both punchable and fuckable.
No way.
No way am I going to admit that I did that. Even if he did watch me do it, acknowledging it out loud would be catastrophic for my pride, or at least, the little of it I have left when it comes to him.
A horn blares, and a silver sedan screeches to a halt on our right as Echo runs a red light and zooms past it.
“Jesus Christ, you’re going to get us killed.”
“I won’t,” he says, flashing a smile at me, “but you might, if you don’t answer me honestly.”
“Echo, this isn’t funny.”
“All the more reason to tell the truth.”
“Fine.” I snap, white-knuckling the overhead handle as he blows through another red light. “I have thought about you. You’re attractive, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Yes.” He says easily, his eyes finally returning to the road. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
I release a breath and sink back into my seat, as relieved as I am mortified.
The rest of the drive passes in silence, but oddly enough, it isn’t uncomfortable, which might be the most annoying thing about Echo. He has this infuriating ability to make me comfortable in his presence, even when he’s the last person in the world I should feel comfortable with.
We pull onto my street, and I’m already rehearsing my exit in my head. If I can just keep it short, civil, and clean, I might be able to get out of this car with at least a little of my dignity intact.
Echo parks in front of my building, cuts the engine, and gets out of the car.
I reach for the door handle to follow him, but before I can, the automatic lock shifts into place.
Narrowing my eyes, I watch Echo through the windshield as he rounds the front of the car and stops on my side to pull the door open.
I stare up at him. “I’m capable of opening my own door.”
