Once silence fills the car, I rest back into Grayson’s arm, and as his fingers unconsciously trail soft patterns over my skin, I find myself watching Carver through the rearview mirror, my odd angle only allowing me to see the darkness of his eyes and nothing more.
As if sensing my stare, he clenches his jaw, already knowing that something’s on my mind. “What?” he demands, not bothering to look up into the mirror to check if his senses were right. He doesn’t need to—he’s right and he knows it.
Cocky fucker. His confidence knows no bounds.
My lips press into a hard line, more than just hesitating. Hell, I should be scrambling for the door handle, ducking and rolling my ass right out of here before bringing up old scars, but apparently, I’m a sucker for punishment.
“You know that day that we almost …”
I cut myself off, hating how awkward the words sound slipping from between my lips, but hating it even more when Carver’s gaze snaps up to the mirror and narrows on mine. “You’re going to have to be more specific,” he tells me as he approaches the neighboring town of Ravenwood Heights, reminding me that I’m quickly running out of time. “There have been many times that we’ve almost.”
I cringe and try to take comfort in the way that Grayson’s fingers stop tracing patterns and grab hold of me instead, squeezing me tight and trying to ease my awkwardness, but I shouldn’t need that. After everything we’ve all been through together, there’s no reason at all for me to be nervous. “The day we were interrupted by Scardoni’s ridiculous attempt at an escape. In the living room, we were inviting you to … play and you watch—”
“I don’t need a recap, Winter,” Carver says, his tone flat and void of all emotion. “I’m not fucking stupid. I was there. I know exactly what happened.”
I resist rolling my eyes as I squeeze my hand into a tight fist and slip it under my thigh to keep from letting it fly toward the back of his head. After all, he’s driving, and while Cruz has quick reflexes to grab the steering wheel, it’s not exactly something I want to risk. “You know, I understand that it’s a difficult concept for you to understand, but did you know that it’s not actually a requirement for you to be an ass one hundred percent of the time?”
“Winter,” he groans in warning, already frustrated after being cramped in the car for so long and having to endure the boys’ bullshit.
I let out a breath and meet his stare through the mirror, and the closed off hesitation in his eyes tells me that he already knows what I’m about to ask. “You said that you’d make me a deal,” I remind him, picturing the moment perfectly in my head, remembering the way his eyes were boring into mine as he walked deeper into the living room, preparing himself to finally take the leap and join in on our group … project.
Not needing me to spell it out, he simply shakes his head and averts his stare back to the road. “The moment’s gone Winter,” he grumbles, his wavering tone telling me that it’s complete bullshit. “There is no deal. It was a brief second of weakness that won’t happen again. Move on. I have.”
Well fuck. That stung like a motherfucking bitch.
I sink back into my seat, unable to stop watching him through the stupid little mirror.
He’s lying.
He has to be because what I feel between us isn’t something that you can just ‘move on’ from and he knows it. Fuck, everyone in this car knows it, and judging by the grim expressions on their faces, they’re more than ready to throw down about it, but they won’t. They’ll sit back and take it just like I do because despite their relationships with me, this is just between Carver and me, and they know how damn important it is that we get there on our own.
My head drops against Grayson’s shoulder as King’s large hand takes over my knee and gives it a gentle squeeze.
I’ve never wanted to be out of a car so badly. The others don’t know what happened in Carver’s room apart from King, and only he knows just how deeply it cut.
We fall into an uncomfortable silence, and the last few minutes of our drive seem to go on forever. Hell, those few final moments seem to drag on longer than the past six hours have, so when Carver slows the Escalade and brings it to a stop by the main gate of our private residence, the relief quickly soars through me.
He makes fast work of hashing in the code, and as he does, a sinking feeling twists my gut. There’s a deep silence in the car, and I can’t help but wonder if the boys can feel it too.