“I didn’t drive, jerk. I’m also not drunk. Put me down! There are plenty of cabs. You’ve been drinking too.”
“I only had a few sips of beer, and I’m driving my friend home.”
I’m ready to claw his eyes out when he pulls out his keys, unlocks the door, and tosses me down to his seat without any gentleness. Then he points at me.
“If you try to get out, I will chase you down, toss you over my shoulder and cause one hell of an embarrassing scene when I carry you all the way back to your apartment like that. Understand?”
I’m already warm from the alcohol, but I’m burning up because I’m furious with him. And I feel like an idiot.
He shuts the door after winking at me, and he walks around and gets in on the driver’s side. He revs the engine of the his Mustang loudly as he backs out of the parking place, then gasses it and slings out onto the street.
“Sheesh! Are you sure you’re not drunk?” I hiss, putting my seatbelt on quickly.
“Not even a little. Are you really not drunk?”
My fury has mostly burned up all the alcohol, but I wasn’t drunk before then.
“I’m just buzzed enough to feel really pissed without having a mental break, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He flinches like I’ve struck him, and I turn to glare out the window.
“Why are you so damn stubborn?” he groans, cutting the wheel.
We’re not going toward my apartment.
“Wrong way,” I tell him, cutting my eyes toward him.
He hits a bump too hard, and it jars me while jingling his keys. Inadvertently, my eyes drop to where they’re hanging from the ignition, and my heart sinks to my toes.
All of his keychains are gone… except for the one I gave him. It’s all alone, without any of his other memories, as though that one keychain holds the only memory he wants.
As though it’s that special…
Maybe I am drunk, because that can’t be right.
“We’re going to my place to talk, because I’m sick of this. I gave you time; I gave you space; I gave you friendship… Now I’m going to take what I want back. And that’s you. Considering you’re berating me about some chick showing me attention that I didn’t reciprocate, I think it’s safe to say you still want me too, but you’re too fucking stubborn to take me back.”
My heart flips a little, still reeling from the keychain sighting that he hasn’t seen me notice.
“We haven’t really been friends, considering I’ve only gone to a couple of yoga classes in your gym and nothing else.”
He bristles beside me, and a small smile tugs at my lips as I watch him. He must have put his hat back on before finding me in the club, and I watch as he adjusts it like it’s an angry reflex.
The tables have turned. Now I’m more amused than him, and he’s all pissed off.
“Being friends with you is fucking impossible,” he finally admits in a quiet, surly tone.
I lose the battle with my smile, but he doesn’t notice. He’s still flying down the street and paying all of his attention to the road in front of us as he weaves in and out of traffic like he’s in a hurry.
His forearms are flexed as he grips the wheel too tightly, and his jaw is set. He wheels into the parking lot, and he hops out as a valet comes to take his keys. He grabs a spare set from his console instead of handing him the keys he’s using, and I notice there aren’t any keychains on that one at all.
He pushes his keys into his pocket—the ones that have my keychain on them—and climbs out. Another valet opens my door, but Jax is there, grabbing my hand and helping me out before the guy can offer to.
It takes me a second to realize this isn’t the same apartment building.
“You moved?” I ask, confused.
He doesn’t answer as he pulls me behind him, and we get on the elevator where he stabs a button for the fifteenth floor over and over.