Doug sat in the passenger seat of Mark’s car, one hand braced against the dashboard as he glanced over at the speedometer. “Aren’t you going a little too fast?”
From the back seat, Tiffany scoffed. “This is nothing. Pull over, Mark, let me drive. I’ll show you how to get stopped.”
“How many times have you been caught?” Mark asked with a laugh as he stepped on the gas. The car barely shuddered beneath him as the needle on the speedometer eased up to ninety miles an hour.
“Do you want the number of actual tickets?” she asked sweetly. She leaned back against the seat and stretched her arms out along its length. “Or are you counting all the times I’ve been stopped? Because I’m pretty good at talking my way out—”
“With a full mouth?” Doug teased. He curled one hand in front of his mouth
