I wouldn’t have even noticed the radio if he hadn’t offered to let me connect my phone.
“You can play something,” he murmurs softly, tipping his head toward the dashboard.
My brain is still trying to play catch-up. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I’m alone with Wesley.
Why would Heath force him to bring me?
He doesn’t want me here.
I connect my phone and start one of my favorite playlists. “Everywhere, Everything” by Noah Kahan filters softly through the speakers. After a minute, Wesley reaches out and turns the volume up a little.
“I can change it…if you want to listen to something else.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “This is good. I like it.”
The flutters I’ve tried to ignore surge back with a vengeance, warmth blooming across my chest and up the sides of my neck.
What is wrong with me?
Why would something as small as him liking the music I picked ignite such a reaction from me?
I turn back toward the window, pressing my lips together until the feeling passes.
The road stretches in empty, endless miles. I knew this would be uncomfortable, but the whole avoiding-conversation thing makes it all feel ten times worse.
I keep checking the time, watching as the minutes until our arrival slowly get lower and lower.
After an extended beat of silence, he catches me off guard when he asks, “What’s your favorite food?”
I huff quietly. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend like you want to get to know me, asking icebreaker questions.”
“Well, the quiet was going to drive me insane, so indulge me.”
I glance at him, barely able to contain my apprehension. “I like pancakes,” I finally say, voice soft.
“Pancakes.”
When the lull returns, I’m the one who breaks it. “What about you?” I ask. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Cheeseburgers.”
His reply hangs in the air, unanswered. He nods once, eyes fixed on the road, grip firm on the wheel, knuckles paling—and I’m suddenly painfully aware of how small the space between us feels.
“So.” His deep voice breaks the silence again. “Are you a cat person or a dog person?”
“I don’t know.”
He raises a brow. “How do you not know?”
“I’ve never had a pet.” I shrug. “Warren was repulsed by the idea.”
“He sounds like a nice guy.”
“You have no idea,” I mutter under my breath.
