“I feel like a toddler.” I wiggled my feet that didn’t reach the pedals and my fingers that barely scraped the steering wheel.
Rowan chuckled. “Let’s adjust everything to your size.” He reached out, but I stopped him.
“I’ll do it.” The basics my mom had taught me when I was twelve were clear in my head, and I moved the chair, set up all the mirrors, then checked the height of the belt. “I’ll go slowly.” I patted the side of the steering column, but nothing was there. “Where’s the key?”
“In my pocket. Just press the button.”
“Oh.” I deflated. Being so adamant on distracting myself with music not to think about accidents, I hadn’t paid attention to how this particular vehicle actually worked. “Sorry.” I stepped on the brake pedal and pressed the button on the side of the steering wheel. Letting go, the car ripped off the road. “Whoa. It’s delicate. Sorry for that.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. Take your time to get used to it.”
“What if I destroy your car?” I squeaked.
“You won’t.” Rowan, the patient teacher, has return.
How was he so calm?
“You overestimate me.”
“I don’t care about the car. Just focus on driving. It’s an SUV, by the way.” He massaged the back of my neck.
His trust gave me courage.
“Okay, okay.” Without music, the drive was quiet, with no noise from the outside. Straight path, safe car, no one around.
I drove for several miles, slower and faster, to get a feel of the vehicle. Maybe I could overcome my fear? Get a car? Take Ethel on a road trip?
A shot sounded, and I yelped. No, it was quieter than that.
I was gripping the steering wheel with all my might as it battled against me. “What did I do?”
“It’s all fine,” Rowan said calmly. “Pull over and let’s check if it’s the tire.”
My body trembled, but my grip was steady. “It’s my fault. We could have—”
“Nope. Nothing bad happened, and you didn’t do anything wrong. We’re near woods; random stuff can be on the way.” Rowan guided the steering wheel that I was white-knuckling as if it would explode if I let it go.
We pulled into a forest road and parked on the side. I jumped out like a man who sat on a pin, and I was rounding the car, inspecting it.
“It’s busted. I think we ran over something sharp.” My hands shook, but I took a deep breath and noticed five things in my surroundings, then reached for Rowan.
He wrapped an arm around me. “I’ll call road assistance, and they’ll pick us up. Raina gave us food, and I have a blanket. We can make a picnic out of it.”
His insane calmness curbed my panic as if we were cosmically connected, influencing each other. The way fated mates would.
I kissed his cheek. “That sounds so nice. But don’t call them yet.”
Shaking my arms out, I straightened my back. Yup, I could do this. I opened the trunk and pulled out our suitcases, then the food, handing it to Rowan.
“Why not? What are you doing?”
“Ha! You have a spare tire.” I knocked on the compartment inside.
“Yes, but I don’t know how to change it.”
I beamed like I was competing with the sun. “But I do. Don’t underestimate a twink with ADHD.” I rubbed my hands together and lifted the lid hiding the tire. “When I was little, my mom took me on trips to the forest, hiking trails, or berry picking. Once our tire suffered a similar fate to yours here, and she taught me how to change it. She was the most feminine creature that ever lived—wearing dresses, impeccable makeup, high heels and all, but she also treated our hiking seriously, Lara Croft style—always prepared. Well, minus the guns.”
He was ready to help me, and looked confused when placed a hand on his chest and walked past him.
