Josh seethes from the driver’s side where he strangles the steering wheel. Before I can fasten the belt across my lap, he whips onto the road.
The belt retracts to the sound of squealing tires, and I shoot him a glare. “What the heck is your problem?” Is he trying to decapitate me or what?
“Myproblem? You’re the one going out to eat with other guys.”
Did he not hear a word I said? “It wasn’t like that. I made crab cakes for dinner and gave Elliott one. He was sitting on his balcony and gave me a beer. Not a big deal.”
“You don’t even have enough money for an oil change, and yet you buy this guy dinner? I don’t think you should even be talking to him. For all you know, he could be a serial killer.”
“Nah. There’d be more screaming next door.” There is screaming but I usually see the women leaving the next morning when I head out for work.
Josh’s eyes narrow, and if he doesn’t slow the heck down, he’s going to ram into the truck in front of us.
“It was a joke, Josh. Lighten up.”
He takes a deep breath, then sighs before leaning across the center console and reaching for my hand. “I’m sorry, Loren. I don’t know why I’m acting like such a jealous asshole. I trust you, and it’s not my place to tell you who you can and can’t talk to.”
“You’re forgiven.”
Even though our first fight is over, awkward silence fills the cab the entire drive back to my place. Josh lets go of my hand when he shifts into park next to my car. I remove my seatbelt, expecting him to do the same. When he doesn’t, my heart stumbles.
We won’t see each other for another week, and he doesn’t even seem to care.
I open the door slowly. Waiting. Climb out even slower.
Isn’t he going to kiss me goodnight?
“Hey Loren?” Josh calls before I close the door.
Hope swells in my chest as I turn back toward him, the light from the console like a golden halo around his head.
“Call me when I’m gone?” he asks with a soft smile.
“Every night.”
His brow furrows and he glances away, scrubbing his hands down his dress slacks like he’s nervous. “I…”
Oh god. This is it. He’s going to say it.Those three words have been on the tip of my tongue since the night we said goodbye back on his great aunt’s front porch and now I can finally set them free.
Josh’s gaze locks with mine, emotion swimming in his eyes. “I like what we have and really don’t want to lose it.”
Hold on. Did he just say helikeswhat we have?
Helikesit.
Like our relationship is French freaking dressing.
Maybe I’m jumping the gun a little expecting him to say he loves me after only a couple months, but the least he can do is say heloveswhat we have. He doesn’t even do that.
Helikesit.
“I don’t want to lose it either,” I say for lack of a more enthusiastic response.
When I close the door and walk toward the staircase, a lead weight settles in the pit of my stomach, and it refuses to go away.
CHAPTER 13
LOREN
