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She got into the car, and he closed the door and somehow made it to the driver’s side, waiting there for a few heartbeats until he could draw in air again, until the ache in his chest faded to a manageable level. He’d had no fucking idea he’d been walking around with a soft, squishy part in the general vicinity of his heart until she’d touched it with a few targeted words.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, he shut the door and pushed down on the brake pedal to start the car. Nifty technology. He couldn’t have dreamed of a vehicle like that back before his time in the fae dungeon.
Music blared as the car’s system activated, and he froze at the sound of NSYNC singing the chorus to “Bye Bye Bye.”
Oh, fuck.
Panic making his hand shake, he tapped at the screen, frantically trying to turn it off. Instead, he skipped forward to the next song on the damn playlist.
“Everybody…” intoned one of the Backstreet Boys.
Gritting his teeth, he fumbled with the fucking screen dashboard, only to accidentally bring up the car’s controls, making the music menu disappear.
Fuck this shit. He grabbed his phone to turn off the music app that was still fatefully connected to the car’s system from his drive earlier, but his fingers slipped and he skipped another song ahead.
“It’s tearin’ up my heart…” came from the speakers.
Face burning like the ninth circle of hell, he lowered the window, threw out his phone, and stepped on the accelerator. The car shot out of the Murrays’ driveway with gravel spraying in its wake.
The music cut off as they veered onto the street, the Bluetooth connection to his phone finally broken.
Oppressive silence reigned for a good minute.
Then Hazel cleared her throat. “Was that—”
“No.” He stared straight ahead.
“A playlist?”
“Fuck no.”
He could feel her gaze on him. He refused to look at her.
“Of ’90s boy bands?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” His grip on the steering wheel was so tight his knuckles flashed white.
More silence, taut with unspoken words. The night air whooshing in through the still-open window on his side cooled the scorching heat engulfing him.
“Personally,” Hazel said, her voice all measured calm, as if she took pains to keep it steady, “I was more of a New Kids on the Block girl.”
Deep breath. It wouldn’t do to rip the steering wheel off. He enjoyed the car way too much to destroy it.
“The other ones came on the scene a bit after my time, you know.” Her voice still had that quality, like she was keeping in some air as she spoke. So as not to laugh. “But I still enjoyed their music.”
He squeezed every word out through painfully gritted teeth. “That. Was. Not. A. Playlist.”
“It was on your phone.”
“Was not.”
“Then why did you throw it out to make the music stop?”
He yanked the car onto a side street, ignoring the angry honking that followed, and stepped on the brake.
* * *
The momentum of the car’s sudden stop hurled Hazel forward, but the seat belt immediately caught her. With a soft thud, she fell back against the seat again.
