“I don’t know why I keep letting you guys drive me places,” I admitted out loud as we got into his enormous truck. “I have my own car, and it works just fine.” Nate just shot me a sidelong glance, then focused on reversing his huge vehicle out of the parking space. “Some might say,” he murmured thoughtfully as he kept his focus on driving, “that you’ve been relying on yourself for so long that maybe you subconsciously enjoy the feeling of being taken care of in little ways.” I scowled. “I’m not an invalid, nor am I some kind of weak woman desperately seeking a man to lighten her mental load.”
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