*Caterina*
I fiddled with the hem of my dress as Elio drove us to his house. I couldn’t even look at him, I was so nervous. I had thought I’d played it cool enough all day that we would just skip over the fact that we’d kissed, but I had apparently been very wrong.
I saw the way his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly and swallowed anxiously, yep, I thought, very, very wrong. His knuckles were white against the black leather of his steering wheel, his forearms bulging with tension.
Far too quickly, we were pulling up to his house. I sat still in silent obstinance, reluctant to let him see that he had the upper hand here.
“Alright, let’s go,” he said, his jaw tensing.
His order had me lifting my chin in defiance. It was just like how he’d talked to me when I was growing up, and it did nothing but make me want to refuse whatever demand he had made.
