He shook his head, one side of his mouth curving in a smile. “Just looking at you, I’d never have guessed a rabid honey badger lived inside that pretty shell.”
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “Ha.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.
“Is Samantha your regular hookup?” she shot back.
He heaved a sigh.
“Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it either.” She pointed out the windshield. “Can we stop at Safeway? I’m going to need some food. God knows I can’t eat anything you’ve got in that kitchen of yours.”
The light turned green, and he continued straight. “I’d really like to clear the air about Samantha.”
As the grocery store disappeared behind a curtain of snow, she slumped into her seat. “I’ll take that as a no on Safeway. As for Samantha, it’s none of my business. Maybe, if we were working together, we’d discuss it, but we’re not, so just don’t go there.”
“How’d Drake find you?”
“I worked with a few of his clients when I was with Performance Therapy.”
Performance was a huge hitter in the business of therapy for elite athletes. Noah had never been there, but many of his friends had. “Drake says you rehabbed Favre and Simms.”
She hesitated, and her voice softened when she said, “Drake talks too much.”
“Who else?”
“I don’t discuss my clients with anyone. It’s a privacy thing, a respect thing.”
“So many morals…”
She glanced at him. “I suppose it would seem that way to you. Relativity and all that.” Refocusing out the window, she added, “Wouldn’t you want me keeping information I learned about you in our sessions private?”
“Sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it got out.”
“Then your expectations are set too low.”
He exhaled heavily. “Hey, look, do you think we can call a truce? This bickering is exhausting.”
She pursed her lips and tilted her head, then hummed and said, “Mmm, no. I’m still pissed about this whole day.”
“How long do you usually stay pissed?”
“Varies.”
He rolled his eyes. “Do you ever answer a question directly?”
“Sometimes.”
“Good God…” Noah rested his elbow on the window frame and rubbed his forehead, letting silence fill the car until a new question popped into his head. “How’d Drake get you away from Performance? Epic can’t be paying you that much. I’m not worth it.”
“Drake seems to think the sun rises and sets on you.” She turned her head and set a comically pensive look on him. “I’m not seeing it, but, whatever.”
“You haven’t had enough time to see it.”
“If you say so.”
“By the end of the week—”
“Oh no. There will be no end of the week. I’m leaving the minute this storm clears. Like tomorrow. I’ll dig my damn car out myself if I need to.”