Page 81 of Waiting for You

"What are you up to?" she asked.

"Take a wild guess."

She swatted my shoulder, her gaze scanning the unfamiliar layout of Violet's new place. "You're forgetting this isn't your house. Or mine."

She had a point. The back rooms were dark and silent.

"Where's Violet?"

"No idea. She must've slipped out."

"When?"

"Didn't hear the door. She probably wanted to give us privacy."

"A heads-up would've been nice."

"Xavier." She fixed me with a dry look. "Do you seriously want to talk about my best friend right now?"

"Definitely not."

"We should head to my place."

I shook my head. "My house is closer. And I'm out of patience."

"Okay."

I lifted her off the granite. She weighed practically nothing.

"Put me down, you caveman."

"Not a chance. I want my hands on you as long as possible."

"Xavier—"

"Nope."

She rolled her eyes. "What have I done to deserve this?" she muttered to the ceiling.

"What was that?"

"Nothing at all," she said sweetly.

I chuckled. Despite the complaints, her arms stayed locked around my neck.

"Grab my keys from the bowl."

She snagged them and held the door open. I carried her down to the street, pulled the passenger door wide, and settled her into the seat. She looked up at me, fighting a smile by pressing her lips into a thin line.

"You're ridiculous," she teased.

I shut the door and jogged around to the driver's side. I pulled away from the curb and pointed the car toward my neighborhood.

Sloane stayed quiet for a few blocks. Then the click of her seatbelt releasing broke the silence.

I shot her a sideways glance. "What are you doing?"

She slid across the center console until she pressed against my side, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.