“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable on the drive here. It wasn’t my intention. Like . . .” His hand swipes through his hair, all tight on the sides and just a bit longer on top. Lending him a sort of sex-mussed quality. “At all.” I nod but cross my arms like they might shield me from him. “Okay.” His thick, dark brows pop up on his forehead. “Yeah? Is that like . . . apology accepted?” “What if it’s not?” I arch one brow at him in challenge. And I almost don’t recognize myself. Am I flirting with him?
