“How many times have you fallen in the creek?”
“Your brights are on. You’ll blind oncoming traffic.”
“There’s no oncoming traffic, but you’d better get in before cars start coming down the hill. The party is ending soon, and …”
She didn’t need to finish for me to know it wasn’t a great idea for me to be out here among dozens of post-party cars. Not with how much my head hurt—to a blinding degree, with or without her headlights on bright, shining in my eyes.
I got in and put on my seatbelt. “Why are you not at your parents’ anniversary party?”
The car pulled back onto the road. “Where do you live?”
“Downtown, near the arts center. Across from the hospital.”
“Don’t tell me you live at the castle.” She pressed the gas a little harder. “Of course you live at the castle.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sure, my condo’s building was the tallest thing in Torrey Junction, and people did refer to it as the castle, but why did she find it so rich that I lived there? “It’s convenient to my work.”
“It’s pretentious and full of snooty bachelor playboys who don’t want to commit to women.”
“Excuse me?” I mentally scrolled through the names on the intercom list at the main floor entrance. “A lot of professionals like The Citadel’s location and amenities. What … do you have a jerk of an ex-boyfriend who lives there?” She totally had an ex living there. Someone who she’d liked and who’d dumped her. “I called it, didn’t I?”
“I’ll bet your condo is the top floor.”
“I like the view of the ocean up there.”
“The view.” She scoffed, and there came that pseudo-curse word again under her breath.
“View!” When her palms whacked the steering wheel it was like she awoke to my presence again, and she halted the rant. Her glance slid toward me and then she cleared her throat. “I’ll drop you off.”
We rode in silence half a mile until I got antsy and said, “I’m sorry about the party crashing.”
“Can you at least tell me why?” She pulled in at the circular drive of The Citadel. “It’s not normal, you know. We’re not exactly acquainted.”
That’s what she thought. “We could be.”
“Are you hitting on me right now?”
Uh … “I—I’m not.” My stupid concussion had me stuttering again. “I’ve had a very long week. Thank you for the ride.” I reached for the handle to get out of the car.
“Wait.” Her fingers curled around my wrist. “My dad liked you.”
My brows pushed together. “I liked him.”
“My parents sent me to find you and ask you if you’d like to come to dinner sometime.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I told them you are a busy heart surgeon and you probably don’t have five minutes to spare.”
Actually, I had six weeks to spare. “That’s really nice of them.”
“Then I’ll tell them you said thanks but no thanks.”
That would be pretty rude, considering how kind Mr. Allen had been to me. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to say it like that.”
“I thought you didn’t sugarcoat bad news. I’ll just tell them you said to buzz off.”
“Is that what you think of me?” I turned back toward her.
Her green eyes shone in the night’s lighting from the building. Her mouth pulled to the side, as if she was relenting on her stance. “Maybe you’re not made of quite the unmixed vileness I attributed to you earlier.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Maybe I could tape that as a note on my bathroom mirror. Morning motivational affirmation.”