Page 71 of After All This Time

"You got my favorites, Firefly."I look up, and Tobias is peering down at me with that fucking grin on his face—the one that makes me want to slap him just as much as I want to grab him by the hoodie and kiss him until neither of us can breathe.

"I gotmyfavorites," I fire back, holding his gaze. "They just happen to be the same as yours."

He doesn't respond right away. He doesn't even need to. His eyes convey the message loud and clear, daring me with that silent challenge.

You don't wanna play along, Firefly. You want this guy to think you're interested?

I narrow my eyes, tilt my head slightly, and refuse to back down.

Yeah, motherfucker, maybe I do.

"Thanks…?" I finally break the stare-off and turn to face the poor guy serving us.

"Kyle."

"Thanks, Kyle. Maybe I'll see you on the way back through." I shrug out of Tobias's grasp, brushing past him deliberately. "He's paying, by the way," I call over my shoulder, not bothering to look back. "I'll see you at the car."

Minutes later, Tobias finally emerges, strolling toward the car like he's got all the time in the world. He slides into the driver's seat, adjusts the mirrors, and doesn't say a word as he takes his place behind the wheel.

"Did you figure out who had the bigger dick while I was gone?"

He erupts into laughter, placing his large, tattooed hands on the steering wheel before facing me and releasing a breathy sigh as he composes himself.

"Baby, it will always be me."

With that same effortless confidence that makes him infuriatingly attractive, he starts the car, palm flat against the wheel as he steers us back onto the road. He drives like he owns not just the car but the entire highway, and I turn my head toward the window, determined not to let him see how he gets to me.

"Can you check your phone? See what time it says we'll arrive?"

I dig my phone out of the side door, swiping at the screen before answering, "One fifty a.m. That's what it says."

We left later than planned, and traffic was a nightmare. I got stuck in it for a few hours after an accident slowed everything to a crawl, and Tobias stopped at least twice to light up a cigarette. It's thrown us completely off schedule, and now we're facing the reality that we're not making it by midnight.

"Are you planning on driving through the night? Because I'm not."

"It's not ideal," I reply, trying to mask my frustration.

"You want to stop somewhere and stay the night? Get a decent sleep and pick back up in the morning."

I groan, leaning my head back against the seat. It's not what I wanted—not even close.

"Yeah, makes sense."

"I'll drive for another couple of hours, and then we'll find somewhere."

I don't argue. I can't. The exhaustion is starting to catch up with me, and at some point, I drift off, lulled by the hum of the car.

When I wake, my head knocks against the window, and the sky above has shifted from twilight blue to midnight black. As I stretch, my joints crack in protest, working out the kinks from being folded up for too long.

As I blink the sleep from my eyes, my gaze lands on Tobias. He's leaning against the driver's side window, one arm propped up, his head resting heavily in his hand. His other hand sits loose on the steering wheel while his fingers drum against it. The sight of him like this—focused but tired, bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights—does something to me I can't explain.

"How long was I out?" The words scratch out of my throat, husky with sleep.

"Over an hour." He glances at me briefly, concern flickering in his eyes. "You okay?"

"I think my neck's broken." I roll my shoulders with a wince that's only half dramatic. "You look tired."

"Yeah, I am a little," he admits, and I hear the weariness in his voice. "I saw a sign for somewhere about ten minutes out. If you're good with stopping, we can crash there for the night."

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