12 Rounds (Knockout 1) - Page 33

Reaching into his pocket, Sean yanks out a set of keys and hits a button. The lights on a brand new looking, black Lincoln Navigator with a chrome gleaming grille flash twice. Sean continues walking to the drivers' side without acknowledging me. I mean I didn't expect him to be a hold a door open for a girl kind of guy, but still. He could have at least said something like hop in or this is me.

I climb into the passenger seat, close the door, and fasten my seat belt as Sean starts the car. Dear God by Avenged Sevenfold blasts through

the speakers and nearly blows my eardrums out. I love the song, but I prefer to listen to it a reasonable volume. Instinctively, my hands cover my ears and without a word, Sean turns down the volume. The rasp in the lead singer's voice fills my ears at comfortable level and I let the words infect me as I turn toward the window.

An enticing aroma swirls around the car and I inhale deeply. It's a musky, roguish scent. Like a mixture of fresh rain and cedar. I swallow hard and I can feel my heart in my throat. I hope this entire ride isn’t full of this awkward silence. I glimpse in his direction and his seat is tilted back, he has one hand on the steering wheel, and the other arm is nestled in the crook of the window. The song on the radio changes and The Time of the Season by The Zombies comes on. Another fantastic song. My eyes flit to his free hand, the one he's not steering with, and I watch as he taps his knuckle against the window along with the beat of the song.

“So,” I say softly. “Thank you for the ride.” I'm desperate to relieve the tension between us. It's making the ride insufferable. Especially because I keep wanting him to at least talk to me, and he hasn't even tried to say anything.

“No problem,” he answers shortly.

Great. Two word answers. This is going to be an epic ride. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Sure.”

Now, one word answers.

Even better.

He keeps his eyes straight ahead, staring out the windshield, an unreadable look on his face. I wish I knew what he was thinking or how to read him. Earlier, when I stumbled into him at the bar, I thought there was warmth in his voice when he caught me by the shoulders. No, I know there was definitely warmth there. Maybe even a hint of concern. Now he's acting like I have the plague and that if he speaks one word to me he'll catch it.

What perplexes me more than anything is that he came deadly close to touching my neck. Normally I freak out at that point. But I didn’t. Then again he didn’t actually touch my neck.

We merge onto the highway and Sean finally decides to speak. “You have to tell me what exit to get off at.” His voice is flat.

At that point I've had it. His hot and cold attitude is driving me crazy. “What's your problem?” I snap. “Why do you hate me so much?” The least he can do is give me an honest answer. I feel like I've had to put up with his moody attitude, and hateful looks I at least deserve an honest answer.

His head turns slowly and his eyes sweep over me quickly before returning to the windshield. “Who said I hate you?” He lowers his voice a level. “Did I ever say that?”

“You don't have to say it,” I groan, frustrated. “It's always written all over your face.” I try to think of how many times he's scowled at me since I've met him, but I realize I've lost count.

“I don't hate you.” He turns his head toward me again, a sincere look in his eyes.

At that moment, I'm elated yet baffled at the same time. Every look he's ever given me has insinuated dislike for me. Or maybe it's me and I'm just that terrible at reading people. Our eyes are locked on each others. His are smoldering with something intense. Maybe its desire. Could it be want? Suddenly I break away from the seductive stare-down when a bright white light burns in my eyes. They are so close I can feel them scorching my skin. We've drifted into the opposite lane and there's a semi truck headed straight for us. “Sean!” I scream. “Oh God! Look out!”

Sean's swerves the car out of the way and his thick muscled right arm juts out across my abdomen, shielding me protectively like he's bracing me for impact. The car does a 360 in the middle of the highway and I can feel Sean's arm tighten against me. My stomach is in my throat as the wail of screeching tires throbs in my ears, and I swear I can smell the rubber burning. My heart hammers against my ribcage and I'm trying to breathe, but I can't.

Seconds later the waterworks have commenced.

Sean finally gains control of the SUV and hits the brakes on the side of the highway. He flips on the hazards and I'm breathing shallowly, trying to control the sobs escaping my throat. My attention averts to his arm that's like a metal bar on a ride at an amusement park that's keeping me from falling out. Sean yanks his arm away and slumps down in his seat, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Are you okay, Hadlee? Are you hurt or anything?”

“No.” I swallow a wad of saliva and tears. “Just a little shaken up.” My voice vibrates and I clear my throat, trying to gain control of it.

There's a grave look on Sean's face and he nods. “Good.” Another tiny nod. “Good.”

He's breathless too and even though I know he won't admit it, he's probably a little shaken up too. “Can we just stay here another couple minutes?” I ask, my breathing still shallow and raspy.

He swallows hard and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. Sure.”

We stay on the side of the road for another fifteen minutes and during that time Sean gets out to check his vehicle for any damage. I mean we didn't hit anything, but maybe something got damaged from the spinning. I don't know much about cars, but you never know. If a rock can fly up and crack a windshield then maybe spinning a bunch of times can damage something.

“Everything good?” I ask Sean as he climbs back into the driver's side.

“Yeah. I thought maybe I might have bent a rim or something, but everything is fine.” He puts his hand on the keys and goes to turn over the ignition, but hesitates. “Can I drive now or would you rather wait a little while longer?” His blue eyes flit across my face before resting on my green ones, full of worry and sincerity.

My breathing is no longer erratic. My heart has ceased racing. I've completely calmed down. “I'm good,” I answer slowly. “Thank you.”

With that said, he turns over the ignition, puts his blinker on and pulls out into mass of on-going traffic.

Tags: Lauren Hammond Knockout Romance
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