Chapter 41
The interior had clearly never seen a fast food wrapper. Even the mats were pristine. I relaxed, wondering why I felt so comfortable until I realized that it smelled like Rohan in here.
I rolled down the window.
Rohan fished a pair of sunglasses from his shirt pocket, pushing them up the bridge of his nose before sticking the key into the ignition. Hand on key, he hesitated, shifting slightly toward me.
I got extremely fascinated by my seatbelt. "Nice car."
He gave an insulted snort, stroking the wheel. "This is a fully restored '67 Shelby. First thing I bought when the band hit it big. Drove it up here from L.A." With a twist of the key, he started the engine, roaring away from the curb with a sharp left that flung me against the passenger door. His hands rested almost carelessly on the wheel.
I tried very hard not to remember the feel of them on me, but that left my eyes trailing down his work-of-art body to his muscled thighs tensing as he shifted gears.