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“Indigo,” I whisper without meaning to, spying the ridiculously small and unsafe car in my rearview mirror. I’m guessing they couldn’t afford a larger and safer one.
As I glare at the car that Indigo is driving as it gets further and further away, I realize that it looks like she's driving about ten miles per hour, too slow for the traffic. This girl seems to do every fucking thing in a way that makes me want to correct it. And her.
As I start to contemplate the chances of Indigo driving even moderately better than she cycles, and whether she’s already seen my text message requesting to meet her tonight, I see a car come careening down the road in their direction. It’s driving way too fucking fast and as my eyes widen, I see it drift over the dividing line between two lines.
My heart beats fast as I slow down a little, watching the cars get further away before glancing at the lanes behind me and pulling over to the side before cranking the steering wheel to the left and pulling a highly illegal U-turn.
“Um, where are we going?” Kennedy asks. “Did we miss it?”
“Sorry, gentlemen. Detour.”
“Is that her car?” Gideon questions, followed by a few choice words when I don’t respond. “You’re losing it, you know?” he snorts. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”
Do you really think I wanna have this fucking problem?
“Didn’t she chew you up for following her?”
“I’m not—”
I stop myself, preparing myself mentally to get off at the next exit so as not to turn into the kind of stalking cretin she’s currently dealing with.
I don’t mean to stalk her. It’s certainly not to intimidate her. In fact, I’d rather she had no idea I was behind her, and with how little I imagine she’s bothering to use her rearview mirror, that is a distinct possibility.
I just want to make sure she gets home okay.
Okay, maybe I am losing it…
I’ve never really felt protective over anyone before. Not since I was a kid anyway.
It’s a feeling I loathe, certainly when it puts me at the mercy of an obstinate, capricious and unpredictable woman who thinks I’m the world’s biggest asshole, depending on the day.
Hell, maybe she’s right.
As I accelerate, trying to catch up to the man I now see weaving in and out of lanes, panic surges through my limbs as the memory of a day long ago ricochets through me…
No…
“Gabriella’s gonna love this when she finds out,” snorts Kennedy.
“Love what?” I snap, going past the speed limit to try to catch up.
“Well, she prunes herself from head to foot every day to be the perfect submissive Mrs. Greyson Everitt while you lose your nut over some hippy who won’t give you the time of day,” he guffaws.
My fingers curl tightly around the steering wheel as my prick friends’ words slice through my gut. I haven’tlost my nut.
I’m just protective, perhaps because Indigo seems to be a one-woman disaster zone incapable of not getting herself into a mess for more than twenty-four hours.
Once I’ve pulled some strings and got her fucker ex’s plea deal fast-tracked so that he’s out of her hair and got someone to either threaten or pay whoever it is doing his work to leave her alone, I intend to do to her what I’ve dreamed of since that first day I saw her and she dared me with those insolent green eyes of hers.
Hopefully, by the end of it, she’ll be out of my system for good and I won’t be following cars around like a goddamn lunatic.
“I don’t give a fuck what Gabriella thinks. We’re not together, as she well knows,” I retort, but before I can tear my friend a new one, my eyes zoom in on the car in front—some beaten-up pickup with a small orange flag flapping around, its stick protruding from the rooftop, the one weaving across lines, approaching the small red car in front.
As I contemplate if I should beep the horn, I see the fucking thing veer to the right, to the lane she’s in.
“Fuck!” I snarl as I begin to beep my horn to warn her and her friends, my eyes wide as it drifts to the right, brushing against the side of their car.
“Fuck!”
