Chance’s eyes held a serious intensity that I hadn’t previously seen from him. “What are you passionate about, Princess?”

Thinking for a bit, there was only one thing that really came to mind. I let out a nervous laugh. “Not much except…animals. I love anything to do with them. I’d wanted to be a vet, but my father was a lawyer, and he pressured me to follow in his footsteps.”

“You probably feel like you relate to them better than humans, huh?”

“Sometimes I feel that way, yes.”

He scratched his chin and smiled. “You’ll find your way. You will. The shit that happened back in Chicago is still too fresh for you to think straight. When you get out to California, the change of environment will do you good. You can take your time, look inside yourself and decide what it is you really want, then make a plan to get there. You are in control of your destiny—except in the next twenty-four hours. I’m in control of it for now.” He winked and flashed a devious smile. “You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“I guess I am.” I smiled. This guy was starting to grow on me, and that was making me really uneasy. I didn’t even know anything about him. “Your turn. Who are you, Chance Bateman? How long have you been in the U.S.?”

“I was born here, actually. I’m a citizen. I moved to Australia when I was five. My father was recruited into professional soccer in Australia to play and eventually coach. I grew up in that world.”

“That’s really cool.”

“It was for a while…until it wasn’t anymore.” He swallowed, his expression turning sullen.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a bit of a long story.”

My phone rang, interrupting the conversation. It was Harrison. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I flipped it around to show Chance the caller I.D.

He took it from my grasp and answered, “Harry! You wanker!”

Harrison’s voice was muffled. “Put Aubrey on the phone.”

“Aubrey and I were just talking about you! We’re out to brekky, and she picks up one of these tiny sausage links and says, ‘See this here? This is just about Harry’s size.’”

He sounded irate through the phone. “You fucking asshole. Tell Aubrey if she’s taking up with trash like you—”

Chance hung up the phone. “Ready to go?”

“That was awesome.” I high-fived him after he lifted his hand. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Bye, Bertha!” Chance winked at our waitress.

“Bye, hot stuff.”

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head in laughter as I followed his hot ass out the door.

It was a beautiful, clear afternoon. I told Chance I wanted to drive this round. In all honesty, I needed a break from staring at his eyes and stubble for a while. My unwanted attraction to him was really starting to make me uncomfortable. Having control of the radio was also a plus to being in the driver’s seat.

“Michael Bolton? Really, Princess? You’re gonna make me sit through this?”

“What? He’s good! His voice is…hearty…robust!”

Chance started singing loudly over the lyrics to When a Man Loves a Woman. He sounded horrible. The impromptu duet between Chance and Michael was enough to make me switch to another song.

Soon after, we stopped for gas, and Chance went inside the mini-mart to get us some snacks after he finished pumping my fuel.

When he reentered the car with a large paper bag, I looked over at him and froze just as I was about to turn the ignition.

He had powder under his nose.

Shit! Was he a coke head? Had he gone to the bathroom to snort it?

“Are you gonna start the car sometime today?” he chided.

My breathing became labored as I geared myself up for a major disappointment. “Tell me the truth.”

“Alright…”

“Were you doing drugs in the bathroom?”

His eyes darkened. “What the fuck?” He was angry. “Why would you ask me that?”

“You have powder under your nose!”

He closed his eyes and suddenly erupted in laughter that lasted for at least a minute. He’d never laughed so hard in the time I’d known him. Chance kept trying to speak but would keep losing it, having to clutch his chest. He looked at himself in the sun visor mirror and swiped the powder from above his lip.

Practically shoving his finger into my mouth, he said, “Taste.”

I pushed it away. “No!”

“Taste!”