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“So charming? Sexy?”
“Young.”
He was definitely charming, and definitely sexy. But I wasn’t going to admit that to him. It was easy to forget he was Tavy’s father. And easier to forget about his seedy past. But I shouldn’t forget, and I definitely shouldn’t be flirting with Smoke.
When the ABBA hour ended, Smoke said, “My turn to have control of the radio.”
“That seems fair.”
“Would you find me to be a total cliché if I listened to Aerosmith? You’ve heard of them, right?”
“Dream on,” I quipped. “And yes, Aerosmith is okay by me.” I threw him a smile.
He glanced at me for a long moment before turning his attention back to the road. “Fuck.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He cranked up the radio and we fell into silence.
Chapter 8
“You gonna finish those?” I asked Smoke, pointing to his onion rings.
He pushed the basket toward me and I doused them in barbecue sauce.
We’d stopped for lunch at a burger and shake place along the highway. I’d put away an entire burger, my own tater tots and half a chocolate milkshake. Smoke’s sunglasses shielded his eyes, but his lips curled into a smile of amusement.
“What?” I asked, grabbing a few paper napkins from the tin and wiping my greasy fingers.
“I’m impressed.” He inclined his head.
“Anger makes me hungry,” I said with a wry grin. My phone danced across the scarred picnic table, flashing Knox’s name.
I looked at it and silenced it.
The phone stopped vibrating and then immediately started up again.
“Persistent,” Smoke said.
“Controlling,” I muttered. “I don’t want to talk to him. The shock and hurt has worn off. Now I’m just pissed. And if I talk to him, I won’t be able to hide it from him.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t hide it from him,” Smoke said. “Maybe you should tell him you left his cheating ass.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you want to witness this?” I asked.
“Maybe I do,” he admitted. “Anger is better than cowering.”
I’d held my peace for so long that I struggled with the idea that I could let my real feelings out. Knox finding out now or later didn’t really matter. And the sooner I dealt with him, the sooner I could cut off all contact.
I reached for my phone.
“You want me to give you privacy?” Smoke asked.
I shook my head. “No. I think—I’d like you to stay, actually.”
“Okay,” he said quietly.
I looked at him in a silent request for reassurance.
