Page 49 of Reconcile

“It’s just...” I look in my rearview mirror and see he’s still directly behind me, even though I’m going a couple of miles under the speed limit and people are flying by me. “He k-kissed me.”

Great... Sound more pathetic, Piper.

“Okay...”

“I didn’t...” Another frustrated sigh comes from my lips. “I didn’t want it. So, I pushed him back and...”

“And what?” His deep growl comes through the speakers of my car.

“And he got kind of aggressive.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m driving home, but he’s following me. Or I think he is. I’m sure he needs this highway to get to his place too.”

“Who is this motherfucker?”

I flinch. “Where is Audrey?”

“She’s fast asleep in her room. How far away are you?”

“About ten minutes.”

He puts me on speaker phone, why I’m not sure. “Okay. I’ll be here, just stay on the phone. Did he hurt you?”

“N-no. Just... I don’t know. I’m probably being ridiculous.”

“Don’t do that. You deserve to feel safe. Seriously, who is this motherfucker?”

I laugh nervously at that, but still, it brings a smile to my face. “Just a guy from work.”

“He works for my brother, and you thought he’d be a decent date? Shameful, Piper.”

“Hey! I work for your brother too.” He’s teasing me, and it eases my panic a little. Until I exit, and so does Caleb. “Oh God, he’s exiting too.”

“Stay calm.” His voice soothes me as the asshole behind me exits and is in the same turning lane as I am off the ramp.

“Hey, what’s up?” I hear Asher’s voice.

Then Sawyer says, “Hey, man. Thanks for coming.”

“I’m always available for backup.” I roll my eyes at their ridiculous bromance.

“You called Asher?”

“And Hayden and Linc,” Sawyer says unapologetically, and I groan when the other two men must join them. Their voices create background noise. God, this is embarrassing. I’ve only been around the other two men a couple of times and barely know them.

I’m mortified. “Sawyer, what if he’s not really following me?

“What if he fucking is? What do you think his plan is for when you park your car.”

A shudder spreads through my body, and my fingers grasp the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t know. He seemed nice.”

Someone whose voice I don’t recognize scoffs, “Fucker is following you. He’s not nice.”

“Linc has a point.”

My stomach is in knots as I turn to go down our street. “I’m turning on our street.”

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