When I Fall For My Kidnapper

Chapter Ten

"My head is killing me," Trevor complains groggily, the truck drifting as he closes his eyes, even though he was driving. I can really tell safety is a priority to him.

"Toughen up, and eyes open." I jab his arm. He groans, sulking as he bites his bottom lip.

"Don't tell me what to do," he growls, squinting his eyes. Gosh. "Why does it have to be so bright?"

"I hate the sun, too," I agree, resting my throbbing head against the chilled window. Ugh. I wish it was dark. I wish I was in a dark hotel room. I wish I was in a dark hotel room with Trevor.

I also wish I knew what we did last night. Throughout the day I had remembered bits and pieces of our wild adventure, but nothing was clear. I remember driving the truck while in Trevor's lap, I remember climbing a tree, and I remember Trevor falling out of a tree because he's such a klutz. I really hope his fall is why he is covered in scratches...

"I can't even think straight." Complains Trevor.

He cannot toughen up, can he?

"Me neither," I grumble, slightly annoyed, closing my eyes. Colors bounce across my vision, and a kick drum pounds inside my head. Ugh. This sucks. I am never, ever, EVER drinking again.

Trevor's phone starts ringing. I let out a wail, the annoyingly high ring shocking through my ears. Trevor seems dazed and slow to respond.

"OH MY GOD, answer the phone!" I yell at him, my head pounding.

"For the last fucking time, don't tell me what to do!" Roars Trevor, snatching his phone, snapping it open so quickly I'd expect the crappy thing to break. Snappy, much?

I roll my eyes at Trevor, and he manages a smirk back, and we continue to have a stare-down until the truck drifts. My heart involuntarily starts pounding as he stares at me, his gorgeous lips curled, light dimples appearing. He slowly presses the phone to his ear, breaking eye contact.

"This is Trevor," he answers, his voice low and raspy. The one good thing about this hangover is that Trevor is extremely hot when he's tired and crabby.

Trevor suddenly slows the truck down, pulling over.

"Just a second," he speaks into the phone, suddenly serious. "Let me get alone."

Is he kidding me? What can he not say in front of me?

He avoids looking at me as he steps outside onto the high way, slowly making his way to the back of the truck, where there was no way I could eavesdrop.

Seriously?

I fold my arms, annoyed, staring at the endless highway, waiting. I don't know why I feel so insulted. But who wouldn't? Not me.

After a long, freaking private conversation, Trevor enters the truck, closing the door gently, tossing his phone into the cup holder between us.

"Who was that?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him, shooting daggers into his skull.

Maybe I should relax. Or maybe not.

"Nobody." He replies, starting the truck again.

"Who is nobody?" I ask, insistent.

"Nobody you'd know." He gives me a look, pulling back onto the highway. Trevor continues to look through the mirrors of the truck, and continues to check the clock. What was going on?

A few minutes later, I ask again.

"Please, Ally, it doesn't concern you right now," Trevor responds, his voice low and glazed over.