Leo was ten minutes late. Typical.
I stood by the gate, duffel in hand, trying not to look like I was regretting everything.
He rolled down the tinted window and stared at me like I was the one late.
“Nice luggage,” he said, eyeing my bag like it offended him.
“Nice hair. Did you comb it with a leaf blower?” I said, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, pulling back onto the road.
“Don’t remind me. It’s the only reason I haven’t stabbed you with a pen.”
He glanced sideways, half-smiling. “Let’s agree to behave like a couple this weekend.”
“Fine. I’ll pretend I like you if you pretend you’re tolerable.”
“Deal.”
We didn’t speak for a while after that. Which was weird considering how loud we usually were around each other.
