“I swear to God, Blake⁠—”

“Does he know,” he said, “that you only bite your lip like that when you’re trying not to say something you want to say?”

Damn it.

I had been biting my lip.

Blake didn’t look away from the road. He didn’t give me the satisfaction of seeing whatever expression was on his face.

“He isn’t gonna like that you showed up with me,” he added.

I laughed, shifting in my seat. “Reese isn’t that insecure.”

Blake hummed, unconvinced. “We’ll see.”

“I don’t even know why you’re driving me,” I muttered.

“Because you’re in pain.” He turned his head slightly, one brow lifting as he gave me a once-over. Then his lips twitched. “B, you’re wearing two different earrings.”

What? My mouth fell open slightly. I reached up immediately, my fingers brushing over my earlobes. One hoop. One stud.

I wanted to die.

A soft chuckle slipped past his lips. “Well, this is a new one.”

I groaned, slouching lower in my seat. “Blake.”

“Beverly.”

I met his gaze. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know.”

That scared me more than anything.

Blake always knew.

He always had the answer.

The car slowed as we reached the restaurant.

“Don’t go,” he said suddenly, his voice rough, like the words had been dragged out of him.

I blinked. “What?”

“You don’t even like him.”

“You can’t know that.” I hated how weak my voice sounded.

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “If you tell me you really want to go, I’ll drop it.”

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to force myself to believe that I wanted to go to dinner with Reese. But the words were stuck in my throat, lodged there like a knot I couldn’t untangle.

“That’s what I thought.” In one swift movement, he pulled the car over, tires screeching against the pavement.

I lurched forward, catching myself with a sharp inhale. “Wh⁠—”

“Come here.” His voice was low. Rough. A little desperate.

“Why?”

Green eyes locked onto mine. “Come here, Beverly.”

I swallowed, my heart thudding violently against my ribcage. “No,” I said, the word coming out defensively.

Blake’s hand shot out, pulling me toward him.

A strangled breath escaped me as my hands hit his chest, the seatbelt locking into place and keeping me half-twisted toward him, my knees brushing against the center console.

I opened my mouth to tell him to back off, to move, to do something other than sit there and look at me like he was trying to memorize every inch of my face.