Page 14 of Forbidden Impulses

Chapter Eleven

Annie

This is quite possibly the most awkward car ride ever. Montgomery is quieter than a church mouse, or whatever the heck the saying is. After the initial battle over the music we'd be playing on the drive, we'd both settled back into our seats toenjoythe delightful silence suffocating us.

I had fully prepared for the long drive to Aspen with Suzie and her dads. But I'd have my best friend to keep me company; her personality is big enough to overpower any lingering vibes. But learning that we'd be taking two cars so Suzie and I would have our own wheels and thatI'dbe going in the same car as Montgomery, was not in the cards.

Oh, Lorcan had a pretty good explanation for it. Something about not trusting Suzie to make the long drive, and not knowing my driving capabilities, blah, blah, blah. But to me? To me, it kind of just looks likeMontgomery wanted to get me alone so he could chew me out for seducing his husband and warn me away.

I'm still kind of surprised they haven't just kicked me out, to be honest.

So when Mr. Monte himself doesn't say word one about the kiss he walked in on, the only conclusion I can make is that we're going to pretend nothing happened.

I'm fine with that.

I'm not fine with listening to this bullshit music, though. I’m in my early twenties, and of course I went through the requisite Swiftie phase, but this nostalgic teen-pop nonsense is not my idea of a good time.

I am a girl that needs variety. And maybe a bit of grit.

"If you huff and puff any louder, I might think you're auditioning for a role in a preschool production of theThree Little Pigs," Montgomery muses.

My head swivels in his direction and my gaze zeroes in on him. I squint my eyes, taking him in, trying to figure out if he's truly sitting there making fun of me right now.

"You know, that's an awful lot of sass coming from an old man listening to Meghan Trainor and John Legend singing about losing love," I snark, raising my eyebrow at him.

A surprised chuckle escapes him as he glances at me before focusing back on the road.

"First, babygirl, John Legend is exactly what his last name suggests, a fucking legend. And second, old man, my ass. I can still ski circles around a young whippersnapper like yourself."

Even while I snort-laugh at him calling me a whippersnapper, I still have to suppress a shiver from being referred to by that super-special nickname. He obviously just used it in reference to me calling him old,nothing more than that, but my body doesn't know any better.

"Seriously though." He breaks the now-less-awkward silence. "It's good music to listen to on a road trip, especially when I need to be kept awake."

Feeling more comfortable now, I lean the seat back and lift my feet onto the dash. Montgomery lifts an eyebrow at my new position but says nothing, so I assume I haven't overstepped some unwritten boundary.

"So, tell me, Montgomery... do you often find you need assistance with remaining awake in situations where you need to be as alert as possible?"

His warm laughter fills the cab of the luxurious car, and it only makes me feel even more relaxed and at ease. "I think, babygirl, at this point you might as well call me Monte. All my friends and close family do."

This time my body reacts with more than just a shiver. Unfortunately, with my feet planted in front of me, clenching my thighs together isn't much of an option to help with the sudden empty feeling between my legs.

"What else do you like to do to help you stay awake?" I ask, instead of telling him what I really want to.

"How about we keep this conversation going? That seems to do the trick," he responds, and even without looking at him directly, I can tell he's smiling, which ‌draws a smile from me too.

There's still this huge, unspoken elephant sitting with us in the front seat, but somehow, it's easier to navigate around it now that the ice is broken.

"I'm not a starling conversationalist," I start up, "But I'm sure I can manage enough words strung together to keep an old man such as yourself from falling asleep behind the wheel."

He mock-growls at me before reaching across to turn down the volume on the music.

"How about a game?" he suggests.

"Yeah? Like what?" I pull my long hair up in a messy ponytail to get it off of my neck.

Monte doesn't answer immediately, and when I turn to look at him in question, he's gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Monte?" I call hesitantly.

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