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“Ask who?” I throw up my hands and shout because now I am mad, mostly because he’s right.
“Me,” he shouts back, the loud bark of his voice surprising us both. “You ask me. I’m the one you ask. I’ll take—” He stops himself mid-sentence, biting it in half with a quick snap of his jaw. Looking away from me, he swipes a rough over his face. “I’ll take a quick shower and then we’ll go,” he says, looking at the watch he has strapped to his wrist.
“We?”
“Yes.” He drops his hand and gives me a look that practically dares me to argue with him. “We—because there’s no way you’re getting across this city in 90 minutes, during rush hour traffic without my help.”
“I’ll be fine on my own,” I inform him, my shitty, defensive tone calling me a liar. “I don’t need—”
“How long did it take you to find the mall yesterday?” he says, cutting me off and I instantly bristle. “And yes—you do.”
It took me nearly two hours to find the mall yesterday. So long that Molly asked me if we're driving home to Ohio. Even though I know it’s pointless, I stand my ground. “I mapped it out last night. Google says—”
“Google is a fucking liar, Grace.” He does it again, talks right over me. “There’s no way you’re going to get across Boston in 90 minutes on your own—Superman couldn’t do it.”
“Oh?” I stack my hands on my hips and glare at him. “And you can?”
He gives me a smug smile and “Watch me.”