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I hadn’t eaten breakfast, but I don't tell him that.
I just look out the window.
I'm angry with him. He hurt me earlier, and I haven’t fully recovered from those new wounds. I'll play his games, but in private, I don’t have to submit to the perfect girlfriend act. In private, I can show him just how much I don't like the man he's become. How disappointed I am in him.
“Well, I'm hungry,” he says, as though I care. He ignores me as he rolls down his window and places an order for two meals. Rain finally starts to fall, big drops hitting the windshield.
Still, I say nothing. I keep my silence as Tav rolls through the line, pays, and gets the meals.
Back on the road, he asks, “Think you can open one, hand me a burger?”
Silently, I do as he asks. When I’ve handed the burger to him, he says around a big bite, “The other is for you.”
“I told you I wasn't hungry.” I'm just being defiant now. The food smells delicious, and my traitorous stomach rumbles loudly. Remira never would have condoned me putting this in my body.
Tav raises a brow at me. “Stop being petulant. Eat.”
That just makes me want to be more petulant. Instead, I glare at him as I fish my burger out of the bag. I open the wrap, split the burger open and peel the tomato from inside.
He frowns. “Don't like tomatoes?”
“I love tomatoes. I hate them on burgers.”
Tav reaches over, plucks the tomato from between my fingers and pops into his mouth.
I don’t know why that simple action makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Probably because I'm a glutton for punishment, but it’s something I imagine my perfect man would do. I hate to admit that Tav would be perfection, if he wasn't such a dick.
Slapping my burger together, I take a big bite.
It's so good. And I was so hungry.
I devour it fast and know that I have no hope of eating the fries.
“Fries.” I hand him his, and he nods to the bag once more. “You've got some, too.”
Placing my hand flat against my stomach, I shake my head. “I'm serious, Tav. I'm so full. If you make me eat those, I will vomit in your car.”
This makes him chuckle a genuine chuckle, and he relents. “Noted.”
Because I’m thirsty, I lift one of the drinks from the center console and suck on the straw. Then I wince at the bubbles, scowling as I shove it back into the holder.
“Still don't like pop?”
“No.”
“I forgot about that until just now. Sorry.”
“I'm surprised you remember.”
“I remember a lot, Olympia.”
I just shake my head and focus out the window.
I need time before we get to where we're going. I need to psych myself up into acting like his perfect, obsessed, head-over-heels, girlfriend.
I need this time, because all day I've been nursing a sore, bruised, aching heart.
fourteen
