She doesn't.
She stays silent.
But that tension's still there.
I'm pretty sure it'll give me a heart attack before I can park in the underground garage.
Then, as the barrier ascends once the sensor accepts my registration, she whispers, "And howdidit turn out?"
Her words have me almost crashing into the post housing the lever because my head whips to the side to gape at her while my hands swerve the opposite way.
"Excuse me?"
She stares straight ahead. "How was the kiss?"
Not for the first time since she got into the SUV, I grit my teeth. But it's not in anger or annoyance. No, it's because I need to keep a hold on my tongue.
But there are some words I can't not speak out loud.
"I-It was...” I lock my jaw. Breathe it out. Refuse to stutter. “…everything I hoped it’d be and it still wasn’t enough."
THIRTEEN
MY SWEET STUTTERER
Until an hour ago,my faith in Zach was unshaken.
And sixty minutes on, I still trust him.
It’s why I don’t look at his phone to see if he’s recordingthis.
It’s why I’m not waiting for his goddamn teammates to jump out from the shadows to laugh in my face.
As crazy as what he’s saying is… he means it.
That stutter tells me more than his words can.
It’s unpracticed. Free from artifice.
It takes a lot to process that though.
I stay quiet as he drives into the parking garage and noses us to the level where our unit has a space.
Amid that silence, however, I accept the one undeniable truth from this whole mess—that video wouldn’t have hurt me at all if Pecan had been the one kissing me.
That’s not to say that I don’t adore Pecan.
I do.
But… Zach.
It’s different.
And it’s that ‘different’ that has a whisper-soft gasp leaving my parted lips as I stare at the dash while he parks.
Neither of us makes a move to open our respective doors.
Nor do we speak.
