I glance to the side, breaking the current. “Can you please put some pants on? Pantsless Park is getting old.”
Or distracting.
However you want to look at it.
I catch his cocky smirk. He clearly doesn’t believe that Pantsless Park is getting old.
I keep my eyes averted, and that’s when they land on my mom’s purple scarf. I jerk my gaze back to him.
“You took my mom’s present? You are the assassin that stole Christmas! The murderer of Christmas spirit!”
“I can explain.”
“I don’t want your excuses.” A rush of adrenaline tumbles through me, and I knee him in the groin. I wish it were harder, but considering the lack of space I’m dealing with here, it’s the best I can do. Park groans as he doubles over in pain. Really, his body just hunches over mine—I didn’t think that through all the way. I push on his chest, moving him out of the way so I can escape from under his perfectly sculpted pecs.
I turn to face him, folding my arms. There’s a slight wince as he straightens, and his blue eyes glance up at me. “I didn’t know you were a nutcracker.”
What can I say? I know a thing or two about self-defense.
But even I can admit, kneeing Park in the groin may have been taking things too far. I’m all over the map right now. I’m angry one second, attracted to Park the next, confused, violent. I don’t know how to behave in situations like this. I’m running the whole gamut of emotions right now.
Park exhales and grabs his pants from the dresser. At least he’s getting dressed. That should help the physical aspect of my crazy responses.
I stand with my hands on my hips. “Are you going to explain what’s going on here?”
“I’ll tell you everything, but first, we’ve got to get on the road.”
“No, tell me everything now.”
“It’s not smart for us to stay in the same place for a long period of time. In case you didn’t notice yesterday, we’re kind of on the run. Let’s get dressed and keep moving. I’ll tell you what I know in the car.”
Park’s expression is more serious than usual, and I know he’s right about the need to keep moving, so I agree to wait to hear what he has to say.
“Fine.” I nod. “As soon as we get in the car.”
TWENTY-SIX
LACEE
I stepout of the motel and glance over the balcony. There’s a foot of fresh snow on the ground, sparkling in the sunlight, and a shoveled path from the bottom of the stairs to the parking lot.
“Where’s the car?” I follow him down the stairwell.
“We can’t use the same car. It’s too noticeable.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
Park surveys the parking lot, scratching the side of his head. “Uh…”
“Oh, I see.” I roll my eyes. “You’re stealing a car.”
“Think of it as borrowing a car.” He shoots me a playful smile. “I’ll let you pick which one.”
“I don’t want to be an accomplice to your crimes. I’m not going to jail for you.”
“I don’t know ifcrimesis the right word.”
“And what would you call your theft? A random act of kindness? Don’t you have any respect for people’s personal belongings?”
