flick of my hand, I turned it down.
“Really?” he asked, raising a perfectly sardonic brow.
I shrugged. “Music only exists to be turned up loud.”
He pushed the eject button and held up the CD. “Five Finger Death Punch? When did you start listening to heavy metal?”
“ I liked the name. It sounded vicious and violent.”
He smirked, but it didn ’t reach his eyes. “You don’t have a vicious or violent bone in your body.”
No, just deceitful ones. I hid behind my own smirk. “You should ask Trevor what he thinks about that.”
Another yawn broke through. I sat up and stretched, inadvertently pushing my breasts forward. I caught a flash of desire on his face. My cheeks warmed with a guilty blush, but it didn ’t stop me from extending my legs and propping them up on the dashboard. His gaze ran down their tanned length. This was how it had started before, an elaborate game of watching and waiting for the right moment. I looked away to the open passenger window, ashamed of playing a game I shouldn’t have begun in the first place.
Then again, turnabout was fair play. He started it with that kiss. I stole glances as he drove, fascinated by the way his muscles flexed through his thin t-shirt as he turned the wheel. The way his bicep strained as he shifted gears, especially when he forgot that first gear had burned out long ago, and he had to wrench hard on the gearshift. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the cab, but his body seemed more defined than when I last saw him. It had certainly felt more defined during our brief embraces. My fingers tingled, wanting to explore. Bad fingers. Don’t go there. That’s how we got in trouble last time.
“ What happened to your iPod?” he suddenly said, interrupting my stealth ogling.
“ I gave it to a homeless man.” Had he noticed me checking him out, and that’s why he asked a random question?
He shot me a look of surprise. Right. The iPod he gave me for my eighteenth birthday, fully loaded with my favorite music. And I just announced I got rid of it like an unwanted cat.
My ears burned as I rushed to explain. “He was trying to steal it out of my bag, so I just gave it to him, and some food. He probably needed the money he could get for it more than I did.”
He stared at me while we were stopped at the light. “You caught a guy stealing your stuff, and didn’t call the cops? Instead, you gave him food?”
When he said it like that, it did sound more than a little naive. I squirmed in my seat. “You had to be there. It made sense at the time.”
His full lips curled into a sneer. “Famous last words.”
I had actually been heartbroken over the iPod, but the guy had been twice my size and tweaked out, making him dangerous in his desperation. Giving it up in return for my physical safety had won out. And I could tell he was starving. I had to give him the food. No one deserved to go hungry when they didn ’t have to.
I closed my eyes and rested my head again st the side of the cab, letting the wind wash over my face. A tense silence cloaked the rest of the ride home. I didn’t open my eyes until he pulled into my driveway.
He hopped out of my truck and walked to my front door. That wasn’t part of our unspoken plan. I scrambled after him and caught up on the front steps. I’d expected him to hand over the keys, say goodnight, and simply walk off. End of our tragic story.
“ Thanks for the ride.” I grabbed for my keys in his hand. “I’ll see you later.”
He dismissed me with a cool glance, and unlocked my door. “Nope,” he said, putting the keys, my own personal set of keys that I needed, in the pocket of his faded jeans.
My jaw dropped. I recovered enough to call after him, shock strangling my words. “What are you doing?”
That didn ’t get a response, either. He opened the door wordlessly, and went inside to the living room. After a moment of gaping, I followed him. The glow from the light in the kitchen spilled into