Shaking my head, I smile with apology. “I can’t. I have a date tonight.” Brant stiffens. Everything about him goes rigid as he looks away from me, the cords in his neck prominent as his muscles twitch. He stares out the windshield in silence. No reply. Desperate for some kind of response, I begin to stammer, “I–I’m free tomorrow from—” “I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but the thought of another man putting his hands on you makes me borderline murderous.” I almost choke.
