Page 41 of Make Me Yours
Lilah stares out the window as her fingers brush over her thighs.
“There was nothing to be jealous of,” I say casually.
Her head snaps toward me, brows furrowing. “What?”
I keep my eyes on the road. “You heard me.”
She lets out a sharp laugh. “You think I was jealous in there?”
“Yup.”
“Of what?” she scoffs, clearly trying to brazen this out. “Of that model who was hanging all over you?”
I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
With an exhale, she shakes her head. I don’t miss the way her arms fold over her chest.
Totally defensive.
Busted.
She was jealous.
And I fucking love it.
“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters, but there’s no real bite to the words.
“Maybe,” I say, taking the next turn a little faster than necessary, adrenaline buzzing through my veins from earlier. “But I’m not wrong.”
Even though she huffs, looking back out the window, I catch the way the corner of her lips twitch like she’s trying to hide her smile.
“Big game tonight,” I say, breaking the tension with a change in topic.
“Against Dallas?”
“Yup.” I glance at her. “I missed you last time.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize. I like knowing you’re out there in the crowd,” I admit. “You’re my very own lucky charm.”
Instead of responding, she watches me, as if seeing something she hadn’t noticed before.
When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
I nod once as the tension within me tightens for an entirely different reason.
After pulling into the garage and killing the engine, we sit for a second, neither of us moving.
She’s so close.
And yet, not nearly close enough.
As much as I want to leave it at that, part of me wants to lean across the console and take our relationship to the next level.
But I don’t.
Because the next move is hers to make.
