Page 78 of Lessons in Heartbreak

I hung up on her and blew out a sharp breath, my eyes narrowing as I tucked my phone into the side pocket of my leggings. There was one thing clear as day right now: I was never telling Griffin King anything ever again.

I yanked open the door. “What is that?”

He crossed his arms, a smug grin gracing his stupidly handsome face. “A convertible. You said you wanted to ride in one.”

Despite my very best efforts, my stomach did this swoopy little flutter thing. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Quashing was an absolute waste of my time at this point. “Please tell me you didn’t buy a brand-new car because I said that.”

The vehicle in question was sexy, and that was not a word I used lightly about an inanimate object. Sleek and low to the ground, it was painted a rich deep blue, the seats inside a sumptuous camel-colored leather. Even the knobs on the dashboard looked expensive. Like if I broke one, I’d need to take out a loan for the amount of money I made in a year.

He laid a hand to his chest. “Would I do something that impulsive, birdy?”

I gave him a look, and he chuckled under his breath.

Oh yeah. It was sexy. It looked fast. And if he bought it because of our conversation, I’d have to go scream into my pillow.

The type of screaming—frustration or feet-kicking excitement—was yet to be determined.

“Fear not. It’s my agent’s,” he said, gently patting the hood. “After an exhaustive search, I accidentally found the keys in the mudroom, sent him a text, and promised to return it safely back into the garage when we were done with it.”

Chewing furiously on my bottom lip as I leaned forward to study the interior, I let out a little whimper when my fingers brushed the leather. Like freaking butter. “He doesn’t even know we have his car right now?”

“Based on the lack of response so far, I’d say no.” Griffin stood up, laying his hand on my lower back and ushering me around to the passenger side. It was the oddest thing, but ever since I’d felt comfortable enough to climb into his lap—a momentary lapse of judgment that was still up for debate as to, one, the efficacy, and two, the ultimate outcome of my offer—there was a different sort of vibe when he touched me.

Him touching me did things. Even innocent touches. Like his hand to my lower back. It seemed physiologically impossible that the lower back was an erogenous zone, but the warm weight of his hand just above the hem of my workout leggings made me actually press my thighs together, a quick zap of energy that came out of nowhere, like it had a direct line to my nipples or something.

I cleared my throat, stepping back when he opened the passenger door and made a gallant gesture inside the gorgeous, lush interior. “I thought we were going for a walk,” I told him, glancing up as he shut the door.

“We are.” Griffin whistled as he rounded the hood. Somehow, he eased his long legs into the car as he took his seat.

“Whereare we going for a walk?”

“Don’t worry. You’ll love it. It’s beautiful. Top of the line.”

“‘Top of the line’ for a walk?”

Griffin slid on a pair of mirrored aviator glasses and twisted his Denver hat backward on his head. With the scruff on his jaw and the slightly overlong hair along the back of his neck and over his ears, he looked far too appealing for his own good.

“Buckle up, birdy. We’re gonna test the limits of this thing when we get on the highway.”

My stomach jumped into my throat. “Why are we getting on the highway? Where are we going?”

Not that he would’ve answered anyway, because the man was clearly a sadist, but his phone rang and when he caught sight of the name on the screen, he let out a small hoot of laughter.

He punched a button on the dashboard to answer. “Steven, how are you feeling this morning?”

“If you get a single scratch on my wife’s car, I’ll drop your ass so fast.”

My head whipped over to gawk at Griffin, but he was merely grinning. He leaned forward and pressed a button, the engine purring to life. Over the phone, his agent groaned.

“It’ll be fine. Have I ever gotten in a car accident before?”

“You are a menace.”

“A menace who just got you a nice paycheck. I paid for this car, Steven.”

His agent scoffed. “You are so lucky they just paid you thirty-two million dollars, because that commission is the only reason I put up with your ass.”

My eyes widened, the proverbial floor dropping out from underneath my feet, and I slowly swung my head back in his direction.

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