Come with me to the Pacific Design Center.”
“Why?”
“Because I need help picking out a new couch,” he said, peering up at her uncertainly. “Isn’t that what friends do?”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” “Should we go?”
Taylor went back inside her apartment and grabbed her keys. As she followed Jason out to his car, she tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey—can I drive the Aston Martin?”
“No.”
“But isn’t that what friends do?”
“No.”
“My, my, you’re awfully grumpy today . . . Is something wrong?”
“Buckle up, sweetheart,” he told her. “This ain’t no PT Cruiser.

Author: Julie James

Come with me to the Pacific Design Center.”<br />“Why?”<br />“Because I need help picking out a new couch,” he said, peering up at her uncertainly. “Isn’t that what friends do?”<br />“Okay.”<br />“Okay.” “Should we go?”<br />Taylor went back inside her apartment and grabbed her keys. As she followed Jason out to his car, she tapped him on the shoulder. <br />“Hey—can I drive the Aston Martin?”<br />“No.”<br />“But isn’t that what friends do?”<br />“No.”<br />“My, my, you’re awfully grumpy today . . . Is something wrong?”<br />“Buckle up, sweetheart,” he told her. “This ain’t no PT Cruiser. - Julie James


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