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“Right. Because you had it under control,” I tell her, arching a brow and trying my hardest to hold on to what little control I have left. “What was your big plan, Blair? I don’t see Billy or his old man around. How were you planning on getting that tree in the back of your truck, huh? How were you planning on getting your spoiled ass home?”
Blair clenches her jaw, fury rippling through her stare. “I would have figured it out.”
I shake my head, turning back to my truck and throwing a strap over the tree to secure it. “Before or after you froze to death?”
“God. You’re such an asshole.”
“Me? I’m the asshole?” I ask, whipping back around, more than ready to tear her to shreds.
“Yeah, you are. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not some damsel who needs saving, especially from you. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you constantly showing up and trying to do things for me.”
“Oh, my bad. Tell me, how did you like shoveling your fucking driveway this morning?”
“Shit. I’d almost forgotten about that God complex of yours,” she throws back at me. “I was more than ready to shovel the driveway. It’s not my problem that you chose to put your big-ass nose into my business and do it before I could even get a chance. Tell me, what time did you come by? Was it early this morning? Or was your desperation clawing at you so much that you couldn’t possibly wait that long? Were you creeping through the streets in the middle of the night while the neighbors slept?”
I turn back around, getting busy with the straps, but apparently she hasn’t had enough. “What are you looking for? A thank you?” she scoffs. “Because in case you didn’t notice, I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“That’s right, because little miss independent Blair Wilder doesn’t ask for shit. Believe me, I’m more than aware,” I tell her, hating that pang of ugliness inside of me that’s lingered for six long years since the day she refused to ask if I’d even want to come to New York with her. “But when did your normal human decency and morals fade away? Was it the second you got to New York or did it slowly chip away over the years? Because I sure as fuck know that your grandparents didn’t raise you like that. Around here, when someone does something nice for you, whether you asked them to or not, you say thank you.”
Fuck. Why do I have to love her like this?
Blair seethes at me, her gaze narrowed into lethal slits, and I can almost feel her laser stare tearing into me. She doesn’t respond, refusing to say thank you out of principle. But I know her better than anyone on this goddamn planet. I know everything about her, know the way she sounds when she sleeps, know the way she tastes. And because I know her so well, I know just how grateful she is that she didn’t have to plow her fucking driveway. Don’t get me wrong, Blair doesn’t mind a bit of physical labor, but if she can avoid it, she will.
Keeping my hands moving on the straps, I meet her furious stare. “Get in the truck.”
“Like hell I’m getting in your truck.”
I clench my jaw, resisting the urge to tighten the strap so much that the tree snaps in half. “Get in the fucking truck, Blair. I’m not asking again.”
She scoffs, turning away and striding toward her pop’s pickup. “Thanksfor the offer,” she spits over her shoulder, emphasizing the wordthankslike it’s poison on her tongue. “But you’ve lost your mind if you think I’m about to go anywhere with you.”
Don’t do it. Don’t fucking do it.
Shit.
I storm around the back of my truck, my strides eating up the distance between us with ease, and before I know it, my hands are on her toned waist, hauling her over my damn shoulder. Blair squeals as I turn around and make my way back to my truck, every step accompanied by a firm beating against my back. But damn, all I can think about is the way she smells like every fucking dream I’ve had since the day I first met her in high school.
“I swear to God, Nick. If you don’t put me down—”
“You’ll what?” I demand, tearing open the passenger side door and depositing her into the seat. “You’ll have a tantrum and run away to New York so you can avoid having to deal with anything real?”
She glares at me, and I take a step back, closing the door between us before I end up with those full lips crushed against mine, because God knows if I touch her like that, if I even think about her like that right now, I won’t be able to stop until we’re both lying in the back of this damn truck, covered in sweat with her throat raw from screaming my name.
With the tree properly secured, I get into my truck, overwhelmed by her scent in the air. “Where’s your coat?” I ask, kicking over the old engine and easing onto the gas as I turn the truck around, more than ready to get out of this old farm and back to reality.
“I’m fine,” she mutters.
“You’re blue.”
She rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but reach into the backseat of the truck and grab my coat before tossing it at her, because let’s face it, neither of us is capable of being mature about this right now. I don’t say a word and neither does she as she shoves her petite arms into my coat, and I don’t miss the way she pulls it tight around her, sinking her face into the soft material just like she used to, but back then, it was because she was breathing in my scent on the coat . . . now, I’m not quite so sure.
Turning out of the farm’s parking lot, I hit the highway and sail back toward Blushing.
With every silent passing second, the tension rises in the truck, and I’m forced to put my window down just so I can take a deep breath without feeling as though I’m dying inside.
Blair stares out the window, her fidgeting hands picking at her deep red nail polish. It’s the only tell that she’s just as messed up as I am right now.
The silence is torture, and the longer I sit here beside her, unable to call her mine, the harder it gets. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white until I can’t take it a second longer. “You just left, Blair. You didn’t even give me a chance to fight for us.”
