Page 24 of A Fighting Chance
She tossed it at him.
It landed with a smack against his chest, stinging a little because of the sweat there that hadn’t yet dried.
With no further words, she got in on the passenger side. He tossed the bags in the back, slid behind the wheel, backed out of the parking space, and made a silent declaration to get back to Gage and Tayler’s as soon as possible.
* * *
The only sound inside the Panamera came from the engine’s quiet, almost inaudible hum and the soft music filtering through the speakers.
Joel drummed his fingers on the middle console.
Ayesha tapped hers a few inches away.
“Do you mind?” She looked from his face to where his arm rested, taking up a significant portion of the middle console.
“Nope.” He slid his hand over until their forearms touched. “I don’t.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Be clearer next time.”
“Have you always been this petty?”
He shrugged.
She sneered.
The silence returned.
Eventually, Robin Thicke’s voice filled the dead air, and he and Ayesha reached for the touchscreen at the same time.
He pulled back. “Go ahead.”
“It’s not the song.” She tapped the skip button. “It’s just, I’m sensing a theme. I think Larke’s been sharing so many playlists, she accidentally shared her and Dez’s, um, ‘date night’ selection.”
“Sex Therapy” came on next.
She smashed the pause button. “Quiet’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” He slid her a glance. “The sound of my breathing won’t make you want to strangle me? Maybe I blink too loud?”
“If memory serves me correctly, you were the one who thought you could say whatever you want to me and not get called out for it. I didn’t start this. You did.”
“Technically, you started it.”
She turned in the seat, facing him. “How?”
“Since I got here, you’ve said only a few words to me. If you can help it, it’s like you don’t want to breathe the same air I do.”
He felt her studying him.
Then she faced forward again. “I’m sitting in a car interior with the windows up, knowing I smell like an onion salad. I don’t hate you. I barely care about you.”
A pang cascaded across the expanse of his chest. “Don’t say shit like that, Ayesha. I want you to care about me. I mean, I care about you. Call me crazy, but I’d like it if we were closer. I might never be as close to you as the guys, seeing as how they’ve been around since before Josiah was born, but the way things have been between us over this past week won’t work.”
The side of her face grew noticeably firmer, and she stared out at the coastline. The closer they got to the house, the fewer cars they met on the road. Already, he could see the house in the distance, a modern structure overlooking the beach that felt warm, welcoming, and familial despite its size.
“Do you hate me because I joined the team?” he asked. “Did I do something before Malibu? Did I say something? Not say something?”