Page 47 of Teach Me to Laugh

I really liked it when she called me Beck. “You can, but you shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Pinning her with a “you know why” expression she didn’t seem to read, I was forced to explain. “You drive a bug.”

“So?”

“It’s small.”

“Perfect for city driving.” She shrugged. “I don’t see a problem.”

“The problem is we’re not city driving.”

She narrowed her eyes and I readied myself for battle. “Raina drives a car that’s just as small as mine. Proof that people who aren’t plagued with little penis syndrome get around just fine.”

Again, insulting my junk. “We can reminisce in the lobby.”

“What?” Confused, she didn’t fight me when I pulled her gently from the now protesting elevator. Another minute of forcing the doors open and we probably would have shut the thing down. Sensitive metal box.

“First time we met you insulted my dick. If you’re really that curious, I’ll show it to you.” I didn’t grin even though I was dying to when her big blue eyes got even bigger. “Just say the word.”

“I can’t believe I agreed to share a room with you.”

“Believe it, babe.”

“Ugh,” she huffed. “Anyway, back on track—I’m driving my own car, so text me the address and I’ll see you there.”

I started walking for the front doors, leaving her standing alone by the now closed elevator. So I knew by the irritated groan she made in the back of her throat, and the click-click sound of her boots stomping against the tile, that she’d given up and begun to follow me.

“Beckett, you’re being seriously ridiculous.” I ignored her. “And overbearing.” Again, I ignored her. “Like afreakingogre!”

That’s when I turned, plucked her suitcase from her hand, and lifted it. If I forced her to get snow on her suitcase, I’d never hear the end of it. As it was, I probably wouldn’t hear the end of her displeasure at having to ride shotgun in my truck. But I didn’t give a damn how pissed she was, I wasn’t about to let her take the back roads to the cabin in her little blue punch buggy. Not a fucking chance.

It wasn’t only about her safety, although that was the number one contributing factor. Most importantly, it was thevisions I had of taking the time to pull her out of the ditch she’d no doubt drive into, with my little penis syndrome, big truck.

She just kept on talking. If anything, the girl really was determined. “You know you’re being silly, right? At least tell me you know this.”

“Kai’s not letting Raina drive her little car out either.” I felt like my father. I could practically hear his voice, “If your friends jump off the bridge, will you?” I’d always hated that question.

“How do you know that?”

“Because Kai’s a man. Any man worth being called a man isn’t going to let his woman drive on icy back roads, while it’s snowing, in a car the size of yours.” I opened the passenger door, gesturing her inside. “Fucking hell, they should be outlawed in the winter. They can barely clear a puddle much less a snowdrift. Riding around in cars like that in a climate like this is dangerous, so I’ll say again, we’re taking my truck.”

Something in her face changed as she pulled her tight little body into the passenger seat of my truck. It was when she turned to me and announced, “I’m not your woman, Beckett,” that I understood.

Closing the door, the words escaped my throat on a low growl. “Not yet.”

The snow started falling real fast and heavy by the time I pulled my truck up to the front of the cabin. The picture of my parents’ summer home looked more like a log mansion draped in white, than a cabin. The drive had been an icy one and I knew, althoughAmara would never admit it, she was happy I forced her to ride with me.

“Well,” she sighed as she looked into the back seat at the piles of grocery bags. “Happy I wore boots.”

By boots, she meant the cream coloredUggswith the big brown button on the side. The girl had a few pairs of these boots and I wondered if the things were actually warm and comfortable, because style-wise, they weren’t the hottest things around.

Still, they were cute enough on Amara, because if she could pull off fuzzy purple socks, then she could pull offUggs.

Killing the engine, I twisted to look at her. That’s when I saw her cheeks were pink and her eyes were wide as she stared through the windshield. I knew what she was seeing. She saw a huge overdone vacation house that people with money indulged themselves with. She saw excess. She saw pathetic.

My throat tightened as I said, “I’ll grab the suitcases.”

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