What the hell? Where did that come from?
“Being closed out.” He has a hint of humor in his eye, but I know he’s being serious, sardonic, and not in a friendly way. I frown at him and go back to my sight-seeing, confused at his manner. Trying hard not to rise to it and inwardly churning up with anxiety.
“What does it take, Emma?” That edgy tone in his voice betrays a bad mood looming up.
Why today?
I curse inwardly. Jake’s negatives moods are the worst thing ever; maybe he’s hungover and obviously still tired. He shifts gear as we round a rather craggy coastal road; his focus on the road, his brows furrowed, and a tightness to his jaw that screams of tension.
“Jake, please … What are you talking about?” I squirm in my seat and adjust my clothes to distract the awkwardness in my pose.
