Page 42 of Against The Boards

“Nope! I’m gonna help you. My SUV has more room than your little Civic. Are you ready?”

“What?”

“Will you let me help you? Christ, you’re so difficult.”

“It doesn’t involve you. I’m fine,” she argued.

I wanted to scream at her. She was so damn stubborn. A Desjardins family trait, I was sure of it.

“Rox, will you let me help you?” I asked, trying not to straight-up growl at her. The caveman inside of me wanted to pick her up, swing her over my shoulder, and drive her to Canada.

She marched over to me with an angry scowl on her face. “Why do you care?”

I looked down at her and gulped as I got a direct look down her shirt. Why was she wearing a sexy lace bra? This woman was killing me.

She pushed me away before I could say anything. “Stop looking at my tits!”

“I’m tall. What do you want from me? They’re in my line of sight!” I growled.

Her hands balled into fists. She looked so hot when she was all riled up. My lizard brain was chanting, “kiss her, kiss her, kiss her.” I wanted to, but that was wildly inappropriate right now.

I growled to myself in frustration. “Rox, I held you while you cried after you told me she cheated on you. Let me help you today.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“Okay,” she muttered meekly.

“Okay?”

She nodded firmly. “Let’s go.”

I grabbed my keys from the bowl at the front door while she darted back into TJ’s room. She came out with her briefcase and a backpack and followed me out the door. She had her phone pressed to her ear.

“No, I’m okay…” She said into the phone and paused while the person on the other line said something I couldn’t hear. “Thanks for being so supportive, Quinn… No, I have someone going with me… Okay. I have my computer, so I’ll try to catch up on stuff later.”

She hung up as she climbed into the passenger seat of my SUV. “Sorry,” she said.

I waved my hand at her as if to dismiss her. “It’s fine. You got an address for me?”

She nodded and plugged her phone into my infotainment center. The GPS map popped up on the screen. Six hours and thirty-four minutes. That was a long drive just for her to tear open this old wound. This would be rough.

In a bold move that would probably get my hand cut off, I grabbed her hand in mine once I hopped onto the turnpike. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

She yanked her hand away and nodded while looking out the window with her chin in her hand. She looked so sad, and I hated that. This was going to be a long drive.

An hour went by before she finally said anything. “I’m sorry for being such a bitch.”

“You’re not being a bitch.”

She laughed. “No, I am. I own that shit, but I’m angry right now, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It’s not your fault my ex sucks. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry about what you’re going through. Break-ups suck. Trust me, I know,” I said. She was hurting, and no matter how much we fought and bickered, it broke my heart to see her so downcast. “You were together a long time, right?”

“Three years. We were best friends before that, though, so it really hurt.”

“Do you still love her?”

She sighed.