Page 33 of Truck Off

His response has me seeing red.

I slam my phone down in the seat beside me and try starting my car again. This time, the engine purrs on the first crank. I quickly fasten my seatbelt and pull out of the parking space and head toward the highway.

I hear my phone buzz a few more times, letting me know he’s sending me more text messages. Every buzz makes me press my foot harder against the accelerator. I’m driving way too fast through town, and I can’t bring myself to give a damn.

When the last light just before my highway exit turns red, forcing me to stop, I take a deep breath. I’ve got to calm down. The last thing I need is a speeding ticket.

I close my eyes and drop my head to the steering wheel. Why do I let shit like this get to me so badly? So what, he bought me some ink and a cabinet?

But we only went out on one date. One. Date.

This is too big a gift after only one date.

My phone rings, dragging my eyes up to check the light. It’s still red.

I pick up the phone, not bothering to check who’s calling before I bark out my hello. I already know it’s him.

“Will you please explain to me what’s happening here?” Christian’s voice sounds frustrated and confused.

“Did you do it?” I ask with way too much venom in my tone. The light turns green, and I gun the gas. My engine revs up way too much, and I back off out of fear of messing up my car more than she already is.

“Do what?”

I let out a low growl. “Buy me the ink and locking cabinet.”

“Is it such a bad thing if I did?”

“Yes!” I yell. “We’ve been on one date. This isn’t the kind of thing you do for someone you’ve only gone out with once, unless you have ulterior motives.”

“Ulterior motives?” He barks out an incredulous laugh. “What the fuck, Lina?”

“Just answer my fucking question. And don’t you dare lie to me, Christian.”

“I’m not Chr …” He suddenly stops talking and lets out a low huff. I imagine him shoving his free hand into his hair and pulling on the strands. That’s something I’ve seen him do a lot when he’s frustrated or nervous.

“You’re not what? Finish that statement.”

He’s silent for a few more beats before he takes a deep breath and sighs. “I’m not lying to you. How can I when I haven’t even answered your question?”

“Then answer it.”

“I feel like I’m going to lose no matter what answer I give you.”

“I just want honesty.” This comes out so much softer than anything I’ve said since we got on the phone. My vulnerability is showing, and I don’t like it.

“Yes,” he says with defeat. “I sent you the ink and the cabinet.”

“What the fuck for?”

“What do you mean, what for?”

“It’s too much. I can’t accept this.”

“It’s not too much. And you have to accept it. I bet the cabinet is already installed.”

I open my mouth to argue with him, but I’ve got nothing. I may not have touched the ink, but Rob replaced my old cabinet before I even had a chance to fully wrap my brain around what was happening.

“I can’t control my boss, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still take it back.”

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