Chapter 89
**Sara**
Tom got into the driver's seat and started the engine. As we pulled away from the curb, I sneaked glances at him again. His profile was annoyingly perfect in the dim light of the dashboard. I wanted to be mad at him, I really did, but...
Wait, what was I thinking? He'd just made a complete ass of himself, and here I was admiring his jawline like some lovesick puppy. Get it together, Sara!
We drove in silence for a while, the only sounds being the low hum of the engine and the occasional honk from other cars. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past. My mind raced, replaying our conversation from earlier.
Had I overreacted? I mean, it was just a joke, right? A stupid, insensitive joke, but still... Maybe I'd been too harsh. But then again, who jokes about not remembering sleeping with someone? That's like, Jerk 101.
I snuck another look at Tom. His brow was furrowed slightly as he concentrated on the road. He looked... worried? Guilty? Or maybe he was just trying to remember if he'd left the stove on. Who knows?
"So..." Tom's voice broke through my thoughts. "Nice weather we're having, huh?"
"Really? You're going with small talk about the weather?"
He shrugged. "I figured it was safer than my last attempt at humor."
"Yeah, well, anything's safer than that disaster."
"Look, I really am sorry about that. It was stupid of me," Tom said, his eyes briefly leaving the road to glance at me. "How can I make it up to you?"
"You want to make it up to me?"
"Of course. Name it, and it's yours."
"Since you're offering..." A mischievous grin spread across my face. "How about a shopping spree? You can take me to all the best stores and let me buy whatever I want."
"A shopping spree, huh? I should have known that's where your mind would go."
"What can I say? I'm a woman of simple pleasures. And you did offer to make it up to me." I batted my eyelashes at him, putting on my best innocent act.
"Alright, alright. Consider it done. I'll take you on the shopping trip of a lifetime."
"Ooh, you're going to regret saying that," I warned. "I can be a pretty dangerous shopper when I put my mind to it."
"Dangerous, how?" he asked, eyeing me warily.
"Let's just say I have a habit of bankrupting the people who take me shopping."
Tom let out a hearty laugh. "Bankrupt me, huh? I'd like to see you try."
"You have no idea what you're in for, Professor," I said, my voice dripping with mock sweetness. "I may look innocent, but I can be quite a little terror when spending money."
"I highly doubt you could bankrupt me. My family has a rather sizable bank account."
I raised an eyebrow at Tom's confident declaration. "Oh, right. I almost forgot about your fancy-pants family fortune. Blackwood Industries, wasn't it? Silly me, here I was thinking I could drain your bank account with a few designer handbags."
Tom's lips curved smugly as he focused on driving. "Indeed. Though I must say, I'm impressed you remembered that little detail about my family."
"Please. Don't flatter yourself. I just have an excellent memory for useless trivia."
"Useless? I'd hardly call my family's business empire useless trivia."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Moneybags," I teased. "Anyway, I was just kidding about the whole shopping spree thing. I've actually got some cash saved up, so I can handle my own retail therapy."
Tom glanced at me, his eyebrow raised. "Oh? And here I was, looking forward to watching you try to bankrupt me."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Sorry to disappoint. Guess you'll have to find another way to make it up to me."
"I'm sure I can think of something," he purred suggestively.
"Oh yeah? And what might that be?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Come now, Sara. I think we both know exactly what I'm talking about. Or have you forgotten our... previous encounters already?"
"Oh, so now you remember? How convenient."
"I assure you, I remember every... single... detail," he said huskily.
My mouth went dry. Suddenly, the car felt way too small and way too hot. I squirmed in my seat, trying to ignore the heat pooling in my belly.
"You know what?" I blurted out. "Forget about taking me home. Let's go to your place instead."
Tom's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "My place? I thought you were mad at me."
"Yeah, well, maybe I changed my mind. You got a problem with that?"
"Not at all," he said, grinning slowly. "But may I ask what brought this sudden change of heart?"
I huffed in exasperation. "Just shut up and drive, Tom. Take me to your apartment before I come to my senses and change my mind again."
Tom's eyes widened briefly before he smirked. He shifted gears and made a sharp U-turn, causing me to grip the dashboard.
"Easy there, Speed Racer," I muttered. "I'd like to arrive in one piece, thank you very much."
"My apologies," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I just wouldn't want you to come to your senses too quickly. Although I must say, I'm impressed. It seems my star pupil isn't afraid of a little after-hours tutoring with her professor."
"Seriously? 'After-hours tutoring'? That's the best you could come up with?"
"Would you prefer 'extra credit assignment'?"
"Oh my God, stop," I groaned, fighting back a laugh. "You're terrible."
"And yet, here you are, willingly accompanying me to my apartment," he pointed out.
I crossed my arms, trying to look defiant. "Yeah, well, maybe I just feel sorry for you. You know, being an old man and all. Figured you could use some excitement in your life."
"Old man, huh? I seem to recall you thoroughly enjoying this old man's company the other night."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said primly.
"No? Perhaps I need to refresh your memory when we get back to my place."
My stomach did a little flip. "Maybe you do," I challenged.
Tom's eyes gleamed with mischief as he continued driving.
"You know," Tom said casually, "I'm starting to think this whole 'angry at me' act was just a ploy to get me to take you back to my place."
I scoffed. "Please. Don't flatter yourself. I'm just... curious to see if your memory's as good as you claim."
"Oh, it is. In fact, I remember a certain spot that made you-"
"Okay!" I interrupted, feeling my cheeks burn. "Let's save the memory test for when we're not in a moving vehicle, shall we?"
"As you wish. Though I must say, your eagerness is quite flattering."
"Eager? Me? No, no. I'm just... academically interested in your recollection skills."
"Academically interested. Right," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And I suppose that's why you're biting your lip and squirming in your seat?"
Damn. Was I that obvious? I tried to sit still, but now that he'd pointed it out, I couldn't stop fidgeting.
"I'm not squirming," I protested weakly. "It's just... your car seats are uncomfortable."
"Uh-huh. And I suppose that flush on your cheeks is from the car being too warm?"
"You know what? Eyes on the road, mister. Less talking, more driving."
Tom laughed but obliged, focusing on getting us to his apartment as quickly as possible. The rest of the ride passed in a charged silence, broken only by the occasional honk from other cars and my not-so-subtle heavy breathing.
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