“You’ve never heard of the Beatles?” He blinks rapidly. “Where have you been living? Under a rock?”

“Shut up,” I say, jabbing him in the ribs.

“I don’t know if we can be friends. I mean, all my friends know about the best band on the planet.” A smile slices across his face.

“Who says we’re friends?” I ask.

“I did. The friendzone bus is lonely, Gia.” His breath tickles my ear. “I’m ready to get off it.”

I twist my head toward the window so he won’t see my involuntary smile. The sad part of his statement is that for so long I wanted him to be more than my friend.

I clear my throat and change the subject. “Is this your favorite band?”

He nods. “Yeah, my ma used to play their songs while she’d clean the house when I was a kid, and ever since then I’ve been hooked on seventies and eighties bands.”

“Oh.” I yawn. “Maybe we can swap playlists. I listen to everything from rap to rock.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks for everything.” I’m not just thanking him for calming me down from my fear, but for everything he has done for me.

“Enjoy the music, Rainbow.”

* * *

The rest of the jet ride wasn’t bad; it’s still not my favorite thing to do. At least I faced my fear of flying, but I won’t be getting on one unless I have to.

Gunner rents a convertible Jaguar, and we cruise downtown with the roof down. I like the smell of crisp, sweet, and clean air. Green trees perch on every corner. Taxi and food stands don’t clog the street like in New York City. They don’t have a subway—instead, they rely on the bus. The buildings are as tall as the ones back at home and the weather is scorching hot.

Atlanta is gorgeous and sweet. Just like a unicorn cake.

When I glance at Gunner, his veiny hand rests on the gearshift and the other one is on the steering wheel. He looks breathtaking with his white V-neck shirt and faded jeans.

Things have changed between us. I don’t know if it’s a good change or a bad change. The more I hang out with him, the more I realize he isn’t a wolf in sheep’s clothing. This is dangerous for my stitched heart. I can’t fall for him and I won’t.

You’re a gullible, stupid heart, I say inwardly. And you’re going to get us hurt again. So stop going haywire.

Gunner twitches his mouth as he speaks to Oliver through his Bluetooth.

“I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” He taps the button on his earpiece, ending the call. “You hungry?” he asks, tapping his finger on the gearshift.