Page 52 of Puck Me Secretly

“Come on,” he walked with my arm still in his grasp. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

I didn’t want to wait for a cab, and a small part of me, really wanted to be near Max.

“Fine,” I huffed, making it sound like I was doing him the favor.

His lips twitched. “You’re cute when you're grumpy.”

He drovea brand new black Lexus SUV.

“Where to?”

I gave him my address which he punched into his GPS. We crawled through the congested downtown traffic and pulled to a stop at a red light.

Max glanced over at me. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

His long fingers tapped on the steering wheel.

The question blurted out of me. “Do you ever think about the plane crash?”

He took his time answering. “Every day.”

“I don’t talk about it with anyone. They all ask about it, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Because no one understands.”

“Yeah.” I turned to him. “But you get it. You were there.”

He swallowed and stared out the windshield. “I have dreams about it.”

“Really? What do you dream?”

“I dream that we crash, I go to pick you up out of your seat but you’re not there and I can’t find you. And then I wake up.”

Max dreamed about me.

It sounded more like a nightmare, but it thrilled me that I was in it.

The shrill sound of his phone on blue tooth interrupts us. The screen on the dashboard said:Uncle Ronny Calling.

“I have to get this.” Max threw me a sidelong glance.

To give him some privacy, I focused my attention out the window.

“Ronny!”

“Hey, Kiddo. How ya doing?” A deep male voice boomed through the car.

“I’m good.”

“Saw your last game on TV. You’re on your game.”

“You’re my only fan, you have to say that.”

The man’s laughter filled the car. “This call has to be short and sweet since I’m on a break, but I wanted you to know that your mom’s car broke down last week.”

“Oh shit.”

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