I grab my coffee and get up, heading for the door.
“Peyton,” I hear Daltyn yell behind me, but I don’t stop.
Ankle be damned.
I’m getting the hell out of here.
He looksangrier than I’ve ever seen him as he hurries out of the diner.
I look away, still leaning against his SUV.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is low, but every word is laced with pure rage.
“Nothing. I just want to go...” I stop myself before I sayhome.It’s not my home. It’s his. “To the cabin.”
He unlocks the door and helps me inside. I’m hurting too much to fight him.
He reaches over me, fastening my seat belt. “No. You need shoes.”
His lips are too close. He’s too close.
“Daltyn, please.” I look away, not wanting him to see how much pain I’m in.
He sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I stare out the window, refusing to look at him.
“For the way I acted.” He straightens. “We’ll get you something for the pain before we look at shoes.”
He closes the door and heads around the front of his SUV. I make the mistake of looking at him.
He looks sad. Full of regret.
My stupid heart squeezes, and I feel bad.
Don’t. He started this.
He climbs inside... but doesn’t start the vehicle.
Instead, he looks at me. “I really am sorry, Peyton. I just... had a rough night. I didn’t sleep much.”
My eyes lock with his, which is a mistake. He looks like a kid who didn’t get any Christmas presents under the tree.
I nod, but don’t say anything.
He stares at me for a moment longer before starting the vehicle.
Damn it. Why do I feel bad for him?
He pulls alongthe sidewalk in front of the store and throws his vehicle into park.
He’s out of the vehicle and opening my door before I can move.
My door opens, and he unfastens my seatbelt, then gently lifts me out. And for a moment, I forget about being mad and hurt.
I forget everything when his hands are on me.
“Wait for me,” he says when my flip flops hit the sidewalk. “I’m just going to park.”
