In Control (The City Series) by Crystal Serowka

us.
    “Kingsley, fucking look at me!” he roared.
    “Can we just get back on the road? I have lots of fancy Hamptons people I’m dying to meet.”
    The more I spoke, the heavier Wren’s breathing became. After a few painfully long seconds, I looked at him. His face was beet red as his stare sparked with anger.
    “I’ll ask you one more time, and if you don’t give me a straight answer, I’ll decide for the both of us.”
    “What’s the question again?” I goaded.
    Wren shook his head. Back and forth, back and forth so many times I was beginning to get dizzy. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” he whispered, looking down at his lap.
    His silence tortured me and I knew that I had gone too far. It was hard for me to back down and be the one willing to patch things up, but I was realizing that Wren wasn’t going to be the one to fix things this time. It was my turn.
    “I’m sorry.” Two words that I haven’t spoken in years came out like I’d been planning to say them all along.
    Wren looked up at me like he was unsure of what he just heard. He eyed me warily, as if I’d suddenly turned into an alien. “You’re sorry?”
    “Yes! I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t just open up to you. I’m sorry I can’t spill my feelings like I’m a fucking open book!”
    “K,” Wren took my hand and calming ran his thumb across my knuckles, “it’s okay. I’m sorry, too. I know you need more time to open up, but you have to understand that I don’t want to be the only one in this relationship spilling my guts.”
    “I do understand. I just—” I pushed my palms into my forehead, trying to work through my feelings. “I just...I meant what I said. I’m gonna try, but don’t get shitty with me when I do it wrong.”
    “Baby,” he grabbed back onto my hands and held onto them tightly, “we’re in this together, okay? We’ll work it out, no matter what.” He pushed his forehead to mine and gave me an encouraging smile.
    I nodded, smiling back.
    Typically, a time like this would call for make-up sex, but two bodies in a car the size of a Hot Wheels was impossible. I kissed Wren passionately, hoping all of my feelings would find their way into his heart. Since I wasn’t able to say the words I knew Wren longed to hear, I wanted him to feel them within my kiss.
    It was still early in the morning, and since we didn’t have to arrive at his parents until that evening, Wren suggested we make a few pit stops along the way.
    “I know you’re not a huge fan of shopping, but there are some antique furniture places in town that we should kill time in,” Wren suggested.
    “Sounds enticing,” I replied bleakly.
    Wren insisted, ignoring my every plea at not going to a furniture store that most likely smelled like feet and old man’s underwear. Twenty minutes later, he was pulling into a strip mall.
    “This will be fun. Stop being such a baby,” Wren scolded.
    I rolled my eyes in response, knowing that any sort of rebuttal would put a tear in the delicate lining of our relationship.
    Over the next four hours, Wren dragged me into five different stores, the smelly antique one taking up one of those hours. I walked behind Wren, watching as he pretty much touched everything in the store. Oh, look at these glasses! This rug would look awesome in my living room, right? I should buy this candle for my mom, she loves the smell of roses. With each comment, I gave Wren my best deadpan stare, hoping he’d get the message that I was clearly not having any fun.
    He either got my message loud and clear and continued to torture me by walking through four more aisles just for the fun of it or he was so enthralled with the antiques, he didn’t notice my very evident plea to leave.
    “I’m starving, bored, and if I saw a Greyhound bus right about now, I might actually consider hopping on it,” I whined.
    I almost got excited when Wren grabbed onto my wrist and walked out of the store, except that we were headed in the