I was actually driving on a road. My cheeks began to ache with how hard I was smiling. “I’m doing it. I’m driving, Dex,” I practically shrieked. “Yeah, you are, babe,” he said. My breath caught on the term. Something about it just did it for me, like when he called me spitfire. He looked at me with such pride that my heart actually palpitated. He was legitimately excited for me, and not disappointed that I hadn’t figured out how to do this years ago.
