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I want to reach out, wrap my arm around her waist from behind, and pull her back flush against my chest before leaning down and brushing my lips against the slope of her neck.
“Still not telling me where we’re going?” She asks from the bottom of the steps while I’m standing dumbfoundedly in front of the door because she makes me lose focus.
“Not a chance, Teach.”
“You know, drives are a good way to get to know someone,” she sing-songs. “This should be fun.”
As long as it doesn’t involve my focus being solely on dragging that skirt up to her waist and dipping my hand beneath her panties, I don’t care what we talk about during the drive. I can tell she’s expecting to be against it because she blinks in surprise at my silence as I lead us over to my car, and I mentally pat myself on the back – normally I would’ve complained by now.
It’s not until we pull out of the long driveway that she finally asks her first question. “Are you close with the other guys in the band?” She chuckles. “That’s probably a stupid question.”
I shake my head. “Not at all. Brent and I are best friends. I’m closest to him. He’s the one I go to with all my problems, for the most part.” Brent knows about the relationship with my parents but not how far it extends. I’ve painted him a prettier picture than what the truth entails. “Do you have anyone you’re close to?”
Wren sighs happily. “I’ve got a great relationship with my brother.”
There’s a brief silence at her answer, and I half-expect to get angry or jealous, but all I feel is gratitude that she gets to have such good relationships with her family. “Is he older?”
“By a few years. Do you have any siblings?”
I shake my head. “I guess it’s a good thing because who knows where I’d be if I did have one or what things would be like between me and my parents.”
“Have you talked to them recently?” I shake my head, hands clenching tightly around the wheel, and she goes on to ask another question. “What’s holding you back from reaching out?”
“I’ve thought about it,” I answer honestly. “I think the fear of them rejecting me further is what’s holding me back.”
“Do they know how you feel about their animosity toward your choice of career?”
“In a way, yeah.”
“And that means?”
I lift one hand from the wheel and run it through my hair. “That I may have freaked out on them when they called me a disappointment, then walked out without another word.”
“When was that?”
“A few years ago, maybe longer.” I try not to dwell on that time.
“Have you considered that your parents have fears of their own? Maybe they are ashamed of their actions, and it’s made them fear you’ll reject them if they try to contact you.?”
I hate how right she could be, but I hate even more that I’m at ease.
I’m never at ease when it comes to conversations about my parents, yet my hands are loose around the steering wheel as I take the exit leading to our destination.
What the hell is going on, and how do I stop it?
Do I want to stop it?
10
Wren
The conversation comes to a halt as Ryker takes a right turn down a gravel road, and my mouth forms a silent 'O' at what lies over the hill behind a row of trees. I look at him with a raised brow. “You said to wear something nice.”
Ryker chuckles. “I didn’t think you’d walk out wearing that.”
“And you couldn’t tell me to change? There’s no way I’ll be able to ride any of this crap in my dress.”
He shrugs. “Wasn’t sure if we would be riding anything, but I’ve got a pair of basketball shorts in the trunk if you want to throw them on.”
