Page 85 of When You Had Me Adapting

“Thanks for saving me from Tanner.” Her cheeks turn a rosey shade of red. “You really helped me dodge a bullet.”

“Of course.” I pull away from her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I want every last dirty detail of your little car ride.”

I roll my eyes as she walks away. I swing the door open and climb into the passenger seat. My head swirls with thoughts of last night again. How his fingers barely brushed mine and how desperate I was for him to touch me somewhere else. Anywhere else. How his corded arms were wrapped around me, holding me like I was a life raft in the middle of the ocean. How after he got up to shower, I considered following him into the bathroom. But why would I do that? We’re only friends.

The driver side door opens, snapping me from my train of thought.

“Ready to go, pixie?”

“Let’s do this.” I try to tug on my seatbelt, but it’s stuck and I can’t get it across my body. “Shit, it’s stuck.”

“Damn it, I thought I fixed it. Here, let me help you.” Jace reaches over and grabs my seatbelt, tugging firmly until it releases. The weight of his body on mine and his woodsy scent makes my whole body come alive. He pulls the belt across my body and clicks it into place. Just as quickly as he invades my space, he leaves it, leaving me as disappointed as I was this morning when he climbed out of bed.

Rummaging through my bag, I grab my e-reader and begin to read. If I can keep my eyes on my book for the next two hours, then I won’t be tempted to stare at the man in the driver’s seat. I won’t think about how much I like the weight of his body on mine. And I definitely won’t think about how much I liked laying in his arms this morning.

Jace starts the ignition and turns on some music. Zach Topp pours through the speakers filling the silence. We back out of the driveway and follow our friends down the gravel road. We are the last car in our caravan of four.

My eyes stay locked on the screen as we make our way around each curve of the mountain. I peer over for a split second to see him singing along to the song. His thumbs drumming on the steering wheel to the beat. I quickly divert my gaze back to my book.

As we continue, I realize there seems to be more twists and turns than I remember. I look up and find none of our friends’ cars are anywhere to be found.

“Did we lose the rest of the group?” I ask. He rounds a large curve in the road and my whole body flushes with heat.

“I need to stop and get gas,” he says. “We can get home this way too. The closest gas station is a little out of our way.”

I nod and my skin erupts with goosebumps, but not the good kind. I fidget with the air vents in front of me trying to get more air.

“You good?”

“Um, yeah, I think so.” I put my e-reader down and take a big swig from my water bottle, but nausea immediately overwhelms me. I try to close my eyes and breathe through it, but it’s no use. My jaw starts to tighten and my stomach does a somersault.

“Fuck, pull over!” The words are rushed and I slap my hand over my mouth. His wide eyes meet mine as he swerves off the road and onto the shoulder. I throw the door open and jumpout. My feet barely hit the dirt before I empty the contents of my stomach all over the ground.Fucking hot, Lacey. Really fucking hot.

I bend over with both hands on my knees. I try to take a deep breath, but another wave of nausea hits me like a truck. I begin to heave, my body retches, and that’s when I feel him behind me. One of his hands gathers my hair out of my face and the other rubs slow circles on the small of my back as he soothes me.

“It’s okay, pixie. I got you,” he says.

I finish getting sick and slowly stand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Goodness, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I quickly scan my body and realize a small spot of vomit on my T-shirt. My face burns with embarrassment. “Fuck me.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing.” I quickly move to the back of the Jeep and he follows me, hovering closer than he should like he’s worried I may get sick again and he’ll need to jump into doing whatever it is he did before.

I swing the back door open, dig through my suitcase, and locate a new T-shirt and my toiletry bag while trying to ignore how close we are and how good it felt to have him take care of me.

I grab the bottom of the shirt I’m wearing, but realize his eyes are glued to me. “Um, I need to change my shirt.” I spin my finger in the air.

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” He takes a step back before flipping around and facing the other direction so I can change. I quickly change tops and stuff my newly stained shirt deep in my bag, so he doesn’t see it. I don’t know why it matters. He literally just held my hair while I threw up breakfast. I let out a low grumble.

“You decent?”

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