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“No.”
“If you don’t get in the car, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”
I blink at him. If Elliot were demanding this of me, my legs would be shaking in fear. But with Harley, I almost want to smile. Despite how much hehashurt me, he never would physically. I know that with my whole heart.
We’re in a heated stare-off for several moments. I yank my hands from him and stomp towards his truck, aware I’m acting childish but unable to control it.
We drive in silence, and he idles out the front. He peers through the window, where the flowers from Nick are sitting on the kitchen bench.
“Nice flowers.”
I glare at him, sliding out of the car.
“Gift from Nick?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” He shrugs, loosely dangling an arm over the steering wheel. “Didn’t take long. For that to start again.”
“You have something to say, Harley?” I growl, narrowing my eyes.
“Nope.”
“Good.” I slam the door shut with much more force than necessary, and stalk into the house without a backwards glance.
