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RYAN
“Golden Star?”
The words left my lips in confusion. I wasn’t sure I’d heard them right.
“Damn right, Golden Star,” said Kyle. “They’re the best Chinese food out there. Better than King Wok. Better than Best Number One Kitchen!”
I had to laugh at the name, but he wasn’t making it up. Best Number One Kitchen had moved in a few months ago, boldly declaring themselves both best and number one.
“We already placed the order. All you have to do is pick it up.”
“Why can’t you—”
“Because Dakota and I have a video conference in ten. Colonel Sciana’s orders. Something important that can’t wait till’ tomorrow.”
I really didn’t want to go out. It was already late. But they’d given me the one excuse I couldn’t argue with.
“What about…”
I nodded over my shoulder, to where Sammara had just come in. She’d literally just thrown her keys on the kitchen counter, but I didn’t care.
“She can take you,” Kyle said. “It’s raining anyway, so you can’t take your bike.”
I glanced at Sammara. The last thing I wanted was to go for a ride into town, especially with her.
“Forget it,” I snarled. “Give me your keys and I’ll go alone. I’ll take the—”
“No.”
Kyle’s look was uncharacteristically firm. Behind him Dakota nodded defiantly, his giant forearms crossed.
“Go,” Kyle said. “Talk to her.”
Ah, shit.
I knew what they were doing, what they were trying to accomplish. Arguing with them wouldn’t get me anywhere. I could refuse to go, but the truth is I was hungry. We all were. Even though it was late, none of us had eaten.
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, fine.”
I whirled on Sammara, who looked back at me in surprise. “Grab your keys again. We’re going to pick up food.”
She blinked. “We… we are?”
“Yes. And I’m driving.”
I held out my hand expectantly, waiting for the keys to her jeep. Already knowing the probable outcome.
“Like hell you are.”
We drove in silence for the first twenty minutes. To say it was awkward would’ve been an understatement. It was more like… physically painful.
“Listen,” I finally said. “I might’ve overreacted yesterday.”
She didn’t move, didn’t speak. It was like looking at some beautiful statue, frozen in place, two hands on the steering wheel and her long legs working the pedals.
The wind blew her hair in every direction, including straight back against her face. She didn’t even flinch. She looked used to it.
“I shouldn’t have fired Edward,” I said. “In fact, I’ll call him tomorrow and hire him back.”
