“No,” Dex said through gritted teeth.
She slapped her hand down on the console. “You’re a freak!”
“That’s not very nice, Phoebe,” I said diplomatically. “It could be a sickness.”
“Fuck off,” Dex snapped. “You two are the messiest people I’ve ever met. You eat an apple and produce crumbs. I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s a gift,” Phoebe said. “Also, I like cinnamon sugar on my apples. I can’t eat them any other way.”
“Except Honeycrisp.” I glanced at her and her eyes lit up. “You love Honeycrisp apples.”
“I do love Honeycrisp apples.” She sighed wistfully. “Our grocery store never has them. They have Red Delicious. Who likes Red Delicious?” She paused, taking a moment to regard Dex suspiciously. “I bet you do.”
“That,” he said, “is the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”
She threw her head back, laughing. “And I say alotof terrible things to you.”
In my periphery, I watched him adjust his grip on the wheel and I did not think about what those hands did last night. “The grocery store near my place has Honeycrisp apples,” he mentioned. “I’ll bring you some.”
I spun in my seat to look at him for the first time since last night: his stubble more pronounced than I’d ever seen it, the shadows under his eyes revealing he got about as much sleep as I did. He was making plans to see us when this was over, as if things wouldn’t be irreversibly different. If all went well with Catalina, he might not even come back to Boston.
The thought turned my stomach over. I sank in my seat, breathing hard to steady my spinning mind.
“Can we…” I swallowed over a dry patch in my throat. “Can we stop? For a second.”
The weight of Dex’s eyes returned and I hated the relief of it. “Are you okay?” Dex asked sharply. Phoebe’s clammy hand clamped over my forehead.
“She’s warm,” she confirmed. I batted her hand away. “Oh man. Did I do this? Is food poisoning contagious?”
“I’m not sick. I just need to stop for a sec.”
Dex took the next exit to the closest gas station. Once parked, I pushed the door open and ducked my head against the warm wind, letting fresh air fill my lungs. Phoebe’s jelly sandals appeared in my vision and when I lifted my head, I was met by concern etched in her features.
“I’m okay,” I assured her. She shifted her weight, giving the parking lot a scan.
“There are a bunch of bushes if you have to puke. I wouldn’t do it in the bathroom.”
“I’m not going to puke.” I was pretty sure. “But thanks, Bee.”
Dex got out of the car to join her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Here,” he said, offering her some cash. “Grab some water, Dramamine, and a granola bar.”
Phoebe nodded, seeming relieved to have a task, and darted for the entrance. I shut my eyes, the dizziness setting in as the weight of Dex’s gaze returned.
“Vi,” he said quietly.
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” I rubbed the space between my brows and then dropped my hand, finally meeting his eyes. He squatted in front of me, too close, and words tumbled out before I could help it. “I’m sorry about last night.”
His expression shuttered slightly. “You’re sorry.”
“I heard you when you said it’s better for us to not… whatever. But I keep…” I blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t want things to be weird between us. I don’t want to not talk to you. But I also don’t want to keep getting caught up like we did last night when that’s not what you want. You must realize I have feelings for you. It’s not fair. Rip off the Band-Aid. I promise I can take it.”
He studied my face for a long moment. “You think I don’t want you?”
“I…” I furrowed my brow. “I touched you and you left, Dex.”
“You touched me and I came.”
Heat ripped up my neck. “That’s—” I huffed out a breath, dizzy for an entirely new reason. “You’re confusing me.”
