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I hated he remembered that.
But I also kind of liked it.
He put a packet of salt and vinegar chips on the center console between us. “Also your favorite, if you’re hungry.”
Ugh. Damn him. A little of the ice I was feeling for him melted. I knew in my heart he hadn’t meant to run me over. It had been an accident. I picked up the Kit-Kat and tore the wrapper off with my teeth. Then, stomach still protesting loudly, I took the biggest bite I could possibly fit in my mouth.
Kian groaned. “What are you doing?”
I chewed on my chocolate bar. “Eating? Driving?”
“You’re doing it wrong!”
“Which one?”
He pointed at the Kit-Kat. “You can’t just bite into it like that. What’s wrong with you? You never used to eat them like that.”
I looked over at him, baffled. “Please explain how I’m supposed to eat it then?” I took another huge bite.
Kian cringed then held up his own Kit-Kat. “Snap them into fingers, then bite into them. My OCD cannot with whatever you’re doing over there.”
I bit into it again. Wrongly, in his opinion, of course, just to piss him off.
He covered his eyes. “I can’t even watch.” He kicked at some rubbish on the floor of the passenger seat. “Also, what kind of slob have you turned into? Why are there so many wrappers and old drink bottles down here? There’s no room for my feet.”
I frowned. I’d been sitting on that side for hours, and there was maybe one empty Coke bottle and a burger wrapper. Both of which belonged to Rebel, who usually sat there, but I hadn’t even really noticed.
Kian leaned over and plucked up the offending items and put them into the now-empty plastic bag he’d been given at the gas station. He shook it in my direction. “This is now the garbage bin. Rubbish goes in here. This car is a pigsty.”
I glared at him. “Are you seriously insulting my car, after using it to run over and probably break my foot?”
His mouth dropped open. “You said it wasn’t broken!”
“Well, it might be! Am I a doctor?”
We stared at each other for a long second, and I could have sworn I saw something more than anger and irritation flare in his eyes.
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking, because staring into his face did things to me I really wished it didn’t.
He was the first to turn away. He put the bag of trash over the back into the floorboards Rebel wasn’t using since she was sprawled out over the back seat, still dead to the world.
Then he reached over, covering my right hand on the steering wheel.
I batted him away. “What are you doing? Piss off, I’m trying to drive.”
“Move your arm.”
I glanced over. “What? Why?”
His face was insistent. “Move your arm so I can suck your cock.”
I froze.
He was dead serious.
It took every ounce of effort to drag my gaze back to the road. “Stop messing with me.”
But I let my hand fall off the steering wheel, navigating the car with only my left one.