Page 28 of Not That Into You

I take a deep breath. He doesn’t need to know how nervous I am.

Glancing at my watch, I lift a brow. “We made it a whole thirty minutes without sniping at each other.”

“That’s definitely a record. Gold star for each of us.” He glances at me. “So, top down, yes or no?”

I smooth a hand over my ponytail. “Sure, go ahead.” We’re not moving fast anyway.

“Cool.” He presses a button, and the roof slowly folds back.

I look over at him and smirk.

“What?”

“You’re not worried about messing up your ‘do?”

“Not at all. The wind will give me an authentic windswept look.”

He shoots me a grin as I shake my head and say, “Right.”

Leaning back, I run my hands down my pants. I’d opted to wear the linen pants with matching top because the pants are wide-legged. If I’m going to be stuck in a car with Cameron for hours, I’m going to damn well be comfortable. I’d be more comfortable wearing my own clothes, but it’s not actually much of a hardship to be wearing this outfit.

I look out at the car inching forward in the lane next to us. The road noise isn’t exactly soothing, and the air smells of car exhaust and hot asphalt, but at least the open roof seems to have released some of the pent-up tension between my fake boyfriend and me.

We’re both trying to be civil, but it’s awkward and unnatural.

I run my hand over the black leather interior. “I didn’t figure you for a Jeep guy.” When he’d pulled up in front of my apartment building, I’d done a double take.

“The Porsche is in the shop.”

Raising my brows, I look over at him as the side of his mouth lifts. “Kidding. This is my only car.”

“Huh.” I’d have guessed he owned a number of flashy but impractical cars he collected and boasted about but didn’t actually drive.

“What’d you think I drove?”

I shrug. “I’ve never really pictured you driving. I half expected us to take a helicopter.”

He grunts, his shoulders tensing.

My eyes narrow. “We’re not taking a helicopter, are we?”

“If we were, we’d be driving in the wrong direction.”

“But you have a helicopter?”

He shifts in his seat.

“You do! You have a helicopter!” Of course he does.

He sighs. “My father does. He usually takes it to the Hamptons.”

A smile spreads across my face as I take in his frown. “Why do you look so uncomfortable?”

“Because it’s pretentious. And really horrible for the environment.”

I snort. “We’re sitting in traffic in a Jeep, which I can’t imagine gets good gas mileage.”

“It does, actually. This is a hybrid.”

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