“What’s going on in your head?”
A beat passes. “What makes you think I’m thinking about anything other than the miracle that is Ed Sheeran’s lyrical mastery?”
I laugh, just like she knew I would. But still I press. “I’m just wondering if it’ll be easier to talk about while we’re still in the car.”
She nods—not a yes, but an I-see-what-you-did-there nod. “So I won’t have to look you in the eye while we discuss it?”
“If that’s what you want.”
A beat passes while she considers. “I don’t suppose quietly never discussing the events of last night again is an option?”
My gut clenches. My hands tighten on the steering wheel. That was not the answer I was expecting. Not after how easy things have been. Not after how fearless and vulnerable and radiant she’s been all morning.
“Try again, Khaleesi.”
That gets another huff of laughter. “So that’s a no?”
We’re stopped at a light. I pull off my aviators and look at her in the bright afternoon sun. “Just so we’re clear—what does or doesn’t happen next is up to you. I won’t push forward. But I don’t think I can go back either.”
Her gaze shifts from mine.
I can tell that even through the sunglasses.
For the first time since she climbed into the SUV, she angles her body slightly away from mine. She gives a tight nod. “Can we maybe… just not do this in a moving car?”
There it is.
The line.
The boundary.
Not here. Not like this.
I study her for a second.
She’s not shutting me out completely.
She’s containing it. Keeping it somewhere controlled.
That’s something I can work with.
“Okay,” I say.
Her shoulders drop a fraction.
Relief.
Good.
We’re not done.
We’re just not doing it here.
I put my aviators back on and turn my attention back to the road. My mind is already ahead of us.
Her place. A quieter space.
Because if she doesn’t want to do this now, I can accept that. And if she doesn’t want this at all, in the light of day, I can accept that too.
