When he made a grab for the driver’s side door handle, she hit the gas and the car lurched forward a few feet.
“Uh-uh,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m driving.”
The vein in his forehead felt like it was going to burst as he stomped down the parking lot after her. “I’m not riding shotgun in my own car,” he snarled.
“You are tonight.”