“Thank you for letting me come along.” His knuckles go white around the gearshift. “Feel better?” “I shouldn’t,” I say, keeping with the act, “but I really do. Those guys are the worst.” We’re coming up on the highway and I tug at the hair on his neck. “Take the back road back to the house.” His eyebrow quirks. “What for?” “Take the back road,” I repeat. “Since you’ve been really good to me the last few days and let me tag along, I thought maybe I could…express my appreciation.”
