“The speed limit. Always.”
I snort. The only attention Reece seems to pay to the speed limit is to go at least ten over.
Not so much now, however. What should have been an easy drive is anything but. The rain’s been constant, and just when I think it can’t possibly come down any harder, it does.
I suck in my breath as we pass a semi, its giant tires kicking up a deluge of water onto the windshield that temporarily puts our visibility at zero.
I give a nervous look at Reece, and though he doesn’t say a word, his knuckles seem to be a little bit white on the steering wheel.
We finally creep past the semi, and the visibility improves, but only slightly. There’s still nothing but a blur on the windshield, and though I’ve never really considered myself the anxious sort, I finally acknowledge what’s been looming for the past hour.
“I’m kind of freaking out here,” I tell Reece. “Can we pull over? Wait the rain out a bit?”
He doesn’t answer right away, but either he hears the nervousness in my voice or he too wants a break from the doomsday weather, because he slowly makes his way over to the right lane, and then onto the nearest off-ramp.
I’m thinking maybe we kill time at McDonald’s or Taco Bell, but Reece surprises me by pulling into the parking lot of a non-chain, a little roadside diner that looks like it used to be adorable and is now simply tired.
I look toward the backseat and purse my lips as I realize I have absolutely no clue which box my umbrella might be in. Or if it even made the trip. Some of my stuff my parents will be shipping later.
Reece reaches behind my seat, pulling his jacket out. “Put this over your head.”
I take it as he shoves it at my chest. “But it’s leather.”
“You’re shitting me. It is?”
I roll my eyes at the sarcasm. “You love this thing. I’m not going to use it as an umbrella.”
Reece shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
Without another word, he shoves open his door and steps into the pounding rain wearing only a T-shirt and jeans.
The door slams on my protest, and I scramble after him, hesitating only briefly before holding his jacket over my head and dashing across the parking lot after him.
Holy frick, I’ve never in my life seen rain like this. Thunder cracks loud and angry just as I catch up to Reece.
He opens the door for me, and I dash inside before pulling his coat from over my head. I start to hand it to him, then burst out laughing when I see him.
He’s drenched. Water’s running down his face, his shirt has gone from perfectly dry to all the way wet in the fifteen seconds it took him to get from the car to the diner.
Before I can consider my actions, I run a hand over his short hair, laughing more as water sprays everywhere.
“You’re soaked,” I say, my hand already going to pluck at the shirt at his shoulder, wanting to see if it’s as wet as it looks.
His fingers wrap around my wrist, yanking my hand away before I can touch him. My laughter dies as I meet his eyes: they’re blue and blazing. “I can play nice for the next week until we get to California, but not when you touch me.”
I tug my hand back. “Really. Then what was that yesterday when you were all over me? Or the night before that on the dance floor?”
His eyes cool. “Mistakes.”
I open my mouth to fire back that they didn’t feel like mistakes, but luckily I’m saved from uttering that stupid statement by the approach of a tired but friendly-looking waitress. “This is a seat-yourself joint, kids. Wherever you like.”
Reece nods in thanks and claims a nearby booth without looking at me.
I slide onto the cracked vinyl bench across from him, stubbornly ignoring the way his shirt clings to his pecs. He wants no touching. Fine. I’ll raise him one. No looking either. I’m not even going to be aware of him.
Only, that doesn’t seem to be going both ways, because I suddenly realize he’s very aware of me and my wet shirt. The jacket covered my head, but with the rain coming down hard every which way, my tank top got a bit…clingy. Unable to resist, I arch my back oh so slightly under the guise of stretching after a long day in the car.
I think I hear him groan softly before he picks up the menu the waitress has set down.