Page 113 of Blindly Yours

“I don’t care, I’ll call someone else to pick me up.”

He sighs as we come up on the tail of a slow-moving van. “I’m sorry, ok? You’ll be a great mom.”

It’s my turn to laugh as I roll my eyes. But I don’t think he’s funny. Not one bit.

He glares at the van. “But be the mom to your own kid. Don’t subject yourself to someone else’s. She’s his problem. Not yours.”

I cross my arms as he swerves a little to the left to see around the van. “How about we just don’t talk for the rest of the drive?”

He ignores me, sliding back into his own lane as a car approaches in the opposite direction. “I heard your family’s heading back up to Berkshire’s for the wedding this weekend.”

I don’t say anything. I simply hope and pray he can’t go.

“I’d be there, but I have a conference in St. Louis,” he sighs.

Thank God.

“You bringing your lover boy?”

“It’s none of your business.” I check my phone. We’ve only been driving for ten minutes, yet it feels like an hour. It’s raining hard now, and that’s only going to slow us down.

“Does your mom know he has a kid?” He closes in on the van again and grumbles under his breath. “C’mon, man…”

“Also none of your business,” I sigh as he swerves to the left again, peering up the road. “It’s a double yellow,” I say as I grip my seat. “Just be patient.”

“I don’t have the time for that,” Malcolm says as he floors it and speeds into the left lane to pass the van. The jolt sends my heart into my throat and I squint my eyes and grit my teeth, hoping he’s going to pass it with ease. But then the road ahead of us slides out of view and we’re hydroplaning.

He slams on the brakes and we slide in the other direction, skidding toward the overgrown field next to the road. It all happens so fast, and all I can do is shriek as we careen across the pavement. Then there’s a loud pop and the car jerks violently to the left, slowing down rapidly until we come to a stop in the left lane.

“Shit.” Malcolm grips the wheel tightly and guides the car onto the right shoulder. “I’ve got a flat.”

My heart slows and I drop my head back to the seat again. “Oh my God, what were you thinking? You could have—”

“We’refine, Rose.” He rolls his eyes like we didn’t just almost die.

Again.

I grip my chest and catch my breath as he grumbles, climbing out to check the damage while he holds his phone to his ear.

Seriously, this is the worst.

I run my hand down my face and watch in annoyance from inside the car as he glares at the tire and speaks into his phone.

When he climbs back in, he says, “My guy, Craig, is out of town, but he knows a guy who’s like five minutes away who can come change it.”

I eye him with distaste. “You don’t know how to change a tire?”

He raises a brow. “Doyouknow how to change a tire?”

“No, but I’m a woman. I’m expected to not know these things.”

Malcolm laughs and settles into his seat, resting an arm lazily over the steering wheel. “If you think I’m getting down on the ground to wrestle that grimy thing off, you’re insane.”

I just look away.

“So, what do you see in him, anyway?” he asks.

Without looking at him, I respond. “Well, for one thing, I’m confident he knows how to change a tire.”

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