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She grabs my sleeve before I can turn away, anticipating the movement. “You’re mad at me.”
“Nope. Go have yourmoment.”
A little of the confusion clears from her expression. “That’s going to be tricky, since you’re leaving.”
“Oh,” I realize.
“Yeah.Oh.” A smirk appears on her face. “You were jealous.”
“Obviously. I thought you’d moved on before giving me your review.”
“You really need to drop the review thing—”
Since she’s already holding on to me, it’s easy to tug her closer and kiss her. When I pull back, she has wet lips and a dazed expression.
Fuck, she’s so beautiful. Breath stalls in my chest.
“All I need is a star rating.”
“Out of five? Or out of ten? Are half stars allowed? Or if not, do I round up or do I round down?”
“All you really needed to say was ‘perfect score,’” I tell her.
Rylan smirks. “How about thumbs up or thumbs down?”
I sigh. Roll my eyes. “Sure. Which one did I get?”
“Let’s go for a drive, and I’ll tell you.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Go for a drive. In your imaginary car?”
“No, in your obnoxiously red truck.” She points across the street.
“Did Hart bribe you to say that?”
Rylan shakes her head. “It’s the same color as a fire engine, Aidan.”
“Men like red cars, okay?”
“Only if they’re trying to compensate for something.”
“Well, there goes your theory, because…” I gesture toward my crotch.
Rylan scoffs before holding her hand out. “Keys.”
“What?”
“You’ve been drinking. I’m sober.”
“I had one shot,” I protest. “And it was one of Hunter’s gross Jell-O ones, which are ninety percent sugar and ten percent alcohol.”
I’ve never let anyone drive my truck. Not many people have asked, but still. Picking it out was a rare perfect day with my parents, and red has always been my favorite color. The list of items I’m attached to besides that truck is pretty short.
“Please.”
I cave like a house of cards. “Fine.”
Then follow her across the street, intrigued as fuck about where she’s taking me.
