Chapter 18

We have been sitting in silence for several minutes. His truck smells like him, musk, and leather. When I say musk, I don't mean the stinky kind; I mean the manly mankind that makes your head spin when it hits your nose.

I decided I'm tired of sitting and silence and bringing a hand to the radio, turning it on. The sound of a rock beat suddenly hits my ears, and before I can even listen to five seconds of the song, he turns it off.

“Why did you do that?” I swung my gaze toward him, frowned, and demanded an explanation. It was better than sitting in silence, for fuck's sake.

“I don't want it on.” He says.

That's it?

He doesn't want it on, so it can't be on?

Ugh, fine.

Damn, my legs are hurting from all that dancing. I take my shoes off and raise them so that they settle on top of the dash. They just need to be straightened out.

“Feet off.” He growls.

Jeez. His in a mood.

“What's up your ass?” I grunted and crossed my arms.

“I don't like feet on my dash.”

“You need to relax,” I advis