Page 96 of Forced Proximity
It was sitting on the dash of my car, and I had to wonder who it was that’d delivered it, and how they’d gotten into my truck without messing anything up.
I called him the moment my butt hit my seat and the truck was started.
“Hey,” he drawled, sounding sleepy.
“Did you ever go to sleep last night?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he admitted. “I figured if I got it done fast, I could come home fast.” He hesitated. “I want to run something by you when I get home.”
I sighed. “Thanks for the muffin.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmured. “I had a locksmith open it up. You need a new car, babe.”
I thought about the mountain of debt I had and cringed. “I know. But I don’t have the credit limit to allow for it.”
“Hmmmm,” he hummed. “Anyway, about what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“I kind of figured that would be something that you would talk to me about when you got home, not over an unsecure line,” I teased.
He chuckled. “I don’t do anything half-ass, Silla. You know that.”
Meaning, the line was well secure, and I didn’t need to worry about what we were about to talk about.
“Okay,” I said as I put my phone in the holder and started out of the lot.
I waved at a few nurses who were waiting to cross the street, and only started going again once they were safely past.
“I wanted to talk to you about…”
He trailed off when there was honking on my end. “What’s going on?”
I looked around to see the chaos in the street. “A protest. Blocking the street.”
“What are they protesting?” he wondered.
I looked around to read the signs as I came to a stop, exhaustion weighing me down. “Um, it looks like a protest about the city of Dallas being assholes and not letting food trucks park on a corner where they are.”
“Interesting,” he said. “Take a left here.”
I didn’t question him and his stalkery ways, I just took a left and started driving slowly down a back alley.
“When you get to the T in the road, take a right.”
I did, my eyes widening as I said, “This is getting pretty narrow.”
“Keep going. It widens out after the dumpster.”
He was right, it widened out after the dumpster that was so full it was spilling over.
“Hang a left, and then an immediate right, and you’ll be on the road you need,” he said.
He was right.
A few minutes later, I was back on the road heading toward home.
“Thanks,” I breathed. “I’m tired.”
“Eat your muffin and listen.”
