A little while later, Jordan pulled into a fast food place. The guys had been complaining about being hungry and needing to piss. The two 20-ouncers that’d been filled up with coffee and soda hadn’t helped either.
Jordan and Zellman hopped out right away, running inside.
Cross and I moved at a slower pace.
“You upset about Taz?” I asked him as we got out.
Resting his arms on the truck’s back-end, he glanced down a moment. He shook his head, still looking at the ground. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”
I paused and waited for him.
He looked back up, a smile flashing for a moment as he stared at me. “Been distracted with you, honestly.”
Those flutters started again, tickling me on the inside.
The lines around his mouth softened, and he reached forward, grabbing my arm.
