Page 27 of Surfer's Paradise

Staring straight ahead, he exhaled.

What the fuck am I doing?

Chapter 6

Rosie sat rigid in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window like a hostage.

Isaac’s truck rumbled through the city, streetlights flashing across the windshield in quiet, rhythmic pulses.

He hadn’t spoken since pulling onto the road, and she was fine with that.

Silence was good.

Silence meant she didn’t have to acknowledge the weight in the truck, the strange, lingering tension sitting between them, the way she could still feel his hands on her waist from when he lifted her into the damn seat.

Nope. Silence was fine.

And then—

“You hungry?”

Rosie rolled her eyes toward him. “No.”

Isaac didn’t even look at her.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

He made a low humming sound, one hand tapping absently against the wheel. “You probably haven’t eaten all day.”

Rosie glared. “I’m fine.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Her jaw clenched.

He glanced over, one brow lifting. Daring her.

Rosie’s stomach betrayed her with a low, shameful growl.

Isaac smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

She huffed, annoyed, but mostly at herself.

And then—**to make matters worse—**he turned into an In-N-Out drive-thru.

Rosie exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

“Shut up, you love it,” Isaac said, rolling down his window.

She did.

And he knew it.

Because it was their place.

Since they were kids, since they were broke, since they scraped together couch change for a double-double and fought over who got the extra fries.

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