“I’m observing your face,” he corrected.
“That’s worse,” she grumbled. Another flicker of amusement crossed his expression before his focus shifted back to the road. Dani studied him quietly. Everything about him felt controlled—even the way he drove screamed confidence and authority. One hand rested loosely on the steering wheel while the other sat near the center console close enough that she was hyperaware of it. She was hyperaware of him, which made her feel ridiculous because she barely knew this man, and yet her body reacted to him like it had known him forever. The memory of him callingher “baby girl” earlier replayed in her head again, making heat creep into her cheeks.
“You’re doing it again,” he said.
“What?” she asked.
“Thinking too loudly,” he said.
“Maybe stop noticing things, and my thinking won’t bother you,” she insisted.
“No,” he breathed. That single word rolled through her like warm whiskey. She hated how much she liked it.
The silence stretched again before Jonnas spoke quietly. “Do you have food at your apartment?”
The question caught her off guard. “Um, kind of,” she lied.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s not an answer.”
“I have ramen,” she said proudly, but Jonnas looked horrified.
“I’m serious,” he growled.
“I can tell. Which part of my answer is upsetting you?” she asked. She rolled her eyes when he didn’t answer. “I’ve been busy.”
“You’re growing a human,” he reminded.
“That human currently likes ramen,” she defended. That was another lie. The human growing inside of her didn’t seem to like any food—including ramen.
“That human is not making nutritional decisions for itself yet—you are,” he said. Dani bit back another smile. This shouldn’t feel domestic, and it definitely shouldn’t feel intimate, and yet every little thing about this conversation made something warm unfurl in her chest. No one had ever fussed over her before—not like this. Not with this strange mix of control and care.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said quietly.
Jonnas glanced at her again. “Do what?”
“Act like—” She struggled for the words. “Like this matters to you already.” His jaw flexed as he pulled into the parkinglot outside her apartment complex. Dani immediately wanted to crawl under the seat and die. Her apartment building wasn’t terrible exactly, but it definitely wasn’t nice either. The brick exterior needed work, and one of the balcony railings looked crooked. Mrs. Green from apartment 2B was smoking on the front steps, wearing a leopard-print robe and fuzzy slippers.
Jonnas took one look at the building and frowned. Mortification flooded her. “Don’t,” she snapped immediately.
“Don’t what?” he asked.
“Don’t judge me,” she spat.
His expression shifted instantly. “Dani?—”
“I know where I live,” she said defensively. “I know it’s not fancy, and I know my car sucks, and I know you probably think this place is?—”
“Stop.” The sharpness in his tone silenced her instantly. Jonnas turned fully toward her now, his gaze steady.
“I am not judging you,” he breathed. She looked away anyway, because people always judged her—always.
“You know what I see?” he asked quietly. She shrugged. “I see a woman who’s been taking care of herself with no help.” His voice softened slightly. “I see someone working her ass off.” Emotion clogged her throat unexpectedly because no one had ever looked at her like that before. Not like she was strong, instead of struggling.
“I’m not helpless,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said.
“Then stop treating me like I might break,” she insisted. Something dangerous flickered in his eyes then.