Page 172 of Revv

“Oh, come on, Mama. Feet up, snacks in your lap, talking shit from the passenger seat while I do all the work?” His eyes drag over me. “That role was made for you.”

“Qué cabrón.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Annoyingly, I can’t.

I hesitate for maybe two seconds before killing the engine again and opening my door. “Fine. But if you drive her like one of your bikes, I’m throwing you out on the highway.”

His grin gets wider as he climbs out to switch sides with me. “Passenger princess already making demands. Knew I’d like this.”

I slide into the passenger seat and buckle in. “Drive the fucking car, Papi.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

A few minutes later, Revel is driving, one hand loose on the wheel while I’m sunk into the passenger seat with my iced coffee between my thighs, but apparently giving up control of the car does not mean giving up my right to criticize everyone else on the road.

Some asshole in a white Mercedes drifts halfway into our lane while staring down at his phone, and I’m leaning forward before I even realize it.

“Ay, pendejo, pick a fucking lane.”

Revel glances over, amused. “You know he can’t hear you, right?”

“He can feel my hatred.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how cars work.”

The Mercedes wanders again.

“See? Mira esta mierda.” I throw a hand toward the windshield. “This is why people shouldn’t have licenses.”

Revel laughs as he eases back enough to put some distance between us. “You’ve been my passenger princess for like twelve minutes and you’re already trying to drive from over there.”

“I’m supervising.”

“Ah. My mistake.”

“You’re welcome.”

His hand comes off the wheel long enough to land on my bare thigh, giving it a quick squeeze before settling there like it belongs.

“Sit back and enjoy your coffee, supervisor. I got you.”

The words are casual, but something about them makes me shut up for a whole three seconds.

A personal record.

Once we finally clear the worst of the city, I take over the music because if I’m, apparently, committing to this passenger-princess bullshit, there should at least be benefits.

I turn it up, kick my sandals off and tuck one leg beneath me while Revel drives.

He lasts maybe two songs before reaching toward the screen.

I slap his hand away.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Skipping this.”