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I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, the taillights from the car ahead of us illuminating the lower half of his face and his neck. He dragged a hand across his scruff, the sound of sandpaper hitting my ears.
The man seemed positively nervous. Or uncomfortable.
What the hell was that about?
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
Just a one-word answer. “You sure because the temperature in this car just dropped twenty degrees and you’re acting weird.”
“I’m not weird.”
“I said we make good partners and you seemed to disagree with that statement. Why?”
His reaction had me on high alert.
“You don’t think we make a good team?”
“I never said that.”
“You implied it with that pause.”
He shook his head. “There was no pause.”
I scoffed. “There was definitely a pause.”
“Faith-”
“Sebastian.”
“Can we drop it?” he asked.
I lowered the volume on the radio. The music streaming through the speakers hadn’t been loud, but it was distracting enough that I found it downright offensive.
“It’s not that I don’t think we could be a good team,” he hedged.
I homed in on that. “Could?”
His jaw ticked.
Time for some dangerous honesty. “I like you. A lot. And I think you’ve been a better partner to me over the past couple of weeks—whether you intended to or not. You’re certainly an upgrade from the finance bros I’ve dated in the past.”
“Trust me, I know. I met that one douchebag, remember? He was an asshole who didn’t deserve you.”
I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Well, yeah. That was painfully obvious…afterwards.”
“And yet you still dated those finance bros.”
I wouldn’t apologize for my past. “Well, it’s practically a rite of passage in New York.”
He grunted. “Doesn’t make it a good idea.”
I huffed. “No, but this conversation is derailing. Those guys were nothing to me. They were assholes and on some level I knew they were assholes. An asshole could never make for a great partner. You aren’t like them.”
“Damn right I’m not like them.”
“But sometimes you’re kind of an asshole.”
