As they walked toward the entrance of Abuelo's, Kayla leaned into Tank's side, soaking up the warmth of his body. His arm rested heavy around her shoulders, his touch protective, claiming. She liked the idea of being his—more than she wanted to admit.

Tank opened the door for her, letting her step inside first before following close behind. The restaurant was lively, filled with the smell of seasoned meats, warm tortillas, and fresh salsa. A hostess greeted them with a bright smile.

"Table for two?"

"Yeah," Tank nodded, his voice deep and sure.

Kayla peeked up at him, her stomach flipping at the way he naturally took the lead. He always did, and she was realizing she liked it.

They were led to a booth, and as soon as they sat, Tank stretched his long legs out, getting comfortable. Kayla glanced over the menu, but before she could decide on anything, Tank smirked.

"You know you mine, right?" His voice was low, his eyes locked on her.

Kayla's heart stuttered. She wasn't expecting him to bring it up again so soon.

She hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yeah... I know."

Tank's smirk deepened. "Good."

That was it. No big speech, no long-winded explanation. Just good. Like he'd already made up his mind, like there was no room for argument.

Kayla's fingers traced the rim of her menu as warmth spread through her chest.

She didn't fight it.

She didn't want to.

Kayla lowered her eyes to the menu, pretending to focus, but her mind was still wrapped around Tank's words. You know you mine, right? The certainty in his voice sent a rush of heat through her body, but instead of letting it consume her, she played it cool.

A waitress appeared at their table, her eyes lingering on Tank a little too long for Kayla's liking.

"What can I get y'all to drink?" the waitress asked, offering Tank a sweet smile.

Kayla didn't miss the way her body language changed, shoulders back, chest out, her voice dipping just slightly as she spoke.

Tank, unfazed, glanced at Kayla. "Whatchu want, lil bit?"

Kayla smirked at the nickname but still side-eyed the waitress as she answered, "Strawberry lemonade."

Tank turned back to the waitress. "Make that two."

The waitress scribbled the order down before flashing Tank another lingering look. "I'll be right back."

Kayla watched her leave, then cut her eyes at Tank. "You see that?"

Tank smirked, leaning back against the booth with his arm draped along the backrest. "See what?"

Kayla rolled her eyes. "She was damn near drooling over you."

Tank chuckled, his light brown eyes twinkling. "That so?"

"You know it," Kayla muttered, folding her arms.

Tank reached over, tugging her chin up so she had to look at him. "Ain't worried 'bout nobody but you."

That's all it took to melt Kayla's attitude. She pressed her lips together, trying to fight her smile, but Tank saw right through her.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she mumbled, looking back at the menu.

Tank just chuckled, shaking his head. He liked this side of her—feisty, but soft when it came to him.

The waitress returned with their drinks, still eyeing Tank like he was the best thing on the menu, but this time, Kayla made sure to slide closer to him in the booth. If he was hers, then she was gonna make sure everybody else in this damn restaurant knew it too.

Tank placed the order for them without skipping a beat, his deep voice making the selections sound effortless. As he handed the menus back to the waitress, his phone buzzed against the table. He glanced down, unlocking it with a swipe of his thumb, and Kayla noticed the way his expression remained unreadable as he studied the screen.

Another load—this one big money. A haul of cars from Milwaukee to Atlanta. Twenty thousand dollars.

Without hesitation, he accepted it.

Kayla sipped her strawberry lemonade, watching him. "How often do you get offers like that?"

Tank leaned back, locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket. "Depends. This kinda haul? Not all the time. But when they pop up, gotta jump on it."

Kayla nodded, thinking it over. She had never considered how much money could be made from trucking, but seeing Tank move with such confidence made her realize just how much of a business this really was.

"That's easy money," she mused. "Probably some athlete moving to Atlanta."

"Most likely," Tank agreed, drumming his fingers against the table. "Either way, it's a smooth trip. Good pay. And it get me back home."

Kayla's lips parted slightly at that realization. Atlanta. She hadn't really thought about where they were heading next, just that she was with him. But now, she wondered what that meant for her.

"So you'll be home for a while?" she asked, keeping her voice casual.

Tank smirked, noticing the shift in her tone. "You worried 'bout somethin', lil bit?"

Kayla rolled her eyes. "I'm not worried about nothing."

Tank's smirk widened. "That so?"

Kayla sucked her teeth, looking away, but inside, she couldn't ignore the way her stomach flipped. Atlanta. His home. Would he want her to stick around? Would she even have a choice?

Before she could dwell on it too much, the waitress returned with their food, and for now, Kayla let the conversation rest. But the thought lingered—what happened when they got to Atlanta? And more importantly, what happened to them?

Kayla twirled her straw in her lemonade, barely paying attention to the food in front of her. She was too caught up in her thoughts. The idea of Atlanta, of what came next, of whether Tank expected her to stick around or if he'd drop her off and keep pushing—it all sat heavy on her mind.

Tank noticed.

"Get out cha head," he told her, his deep voice cutting through her thoughts as he took another bite of his enchiladas.

Kayla blinked, looking up. "Huh?"

Tank smirked, shaking his head. "I said, get out cha head. You do that too much."

Kayla sighed, finally picking up her fork. "I'm not in my head."

Tank gave her a pointed look. "Mmhm. You been quiet since I took that load."

Kayla shoved a bite of her taco salad in her mouth, chewing slowly. He wasn't wrong, but she wasn't about to admit it.

Tank wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his chair, watching her. "You worried 'bout Atlanta?"

Kayla hesitated, then shrugged. "I'm not worried. Just... thinking"

"'Bout what?"

Kayla played with the hem of her sleeve, debating if she should say it. Finally, she let it out. "What happens when we get there?"

Tank studied her for a second, his brown eyes holding hers. Then, without missing a beat, he said, "What you want to happen?"

That question made her pause. She hadn't let herself think that far. She knew she liked being with him, but saying it out loud? That was different.

"I don't know," she admitted.

Tank nodded like he expected that answer. "Then stop stressin' 'bout it. We'll figure it out when we get there."

Kayla exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed to stop overthinking and just enjoy the moment.

Tank reached over, tilting her chin up so she had to look at him. "You ridin' with me or not?"

Kayla met his gaze, her heartbeat picking up. There was something in the way he asked, like he was giving her a choice but also making it clear he wanted her to stay.

A small smile touched her lips. "Yeah, I'm riding with you."

Tank smirked, satisfied. "Aight then. Eat your food."

Kayla chuckled softly, shaking her head as she finally dug into her meal. Maybe she didn't have all the answers yet, but one thing was for sure—she wasn't ready to leave Tank's side.

They finished eating, and Tank paid the bill without a second thought, leading Kayla back to the truck with his hand resting lightly on her lower back. The touch was subtle, but Kayla felt it all over. It was protective, possessive even, and she liked it more than she was willing to admit.

The sun was starting to set as they got back on the road, heading toward the lot where Tank would pick up the haul of cars. Kayla climbed into the passenger seat, getting comfortable while Tank adjusted his seat and checked his mirrors.

"You ever been to Atlanta?" he asked as he pulled onto the highway.

Kayla shook her head. "Nah. I always wanted to go, though."

Tank smirked. "You gon' like it. Good food, good weather. Southern hospitality, too."

Kayla glanced at him. "Aren't you from Mississippi? Thats not the same as Georgia."

Tank chuckled. "It ain't, but close enough. Still the South."

Kayla nodded, watching the city lights fade into the distance as they hit the open road. She was comfortable with Tank, more than she had been with anybody in a long time. The way he carried himself, the way he made her feel safe without making a big deal out of it—it was different.

After about thirty minutes, they pulled into the lot where Tank was set to pick up the cars. Kayla sat back, watching as he talked with the lot attendant, going through the necessary paperwork before checking out the vehicles.

She got out of the truck, stretching as Tank walked up beside her.

"You stay here," he told her, his voice low. "I gotta get these cars loaded. Won't take long."

Kayla smirked. "You gon' be all sweaty after this, huh?"

Tank smirked back. "You offerin' to wipe me down, lil bit?"

Kayla rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "Boy, gone."

Tank chuckled before getting to work, his muscles flexing as he secured each car onto the trailer with precision. Kayla tried not to stare, but damn, he made it hard.

By the time he was done, the sky had darkened, and the lot lights cast a glow over them. Tank wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before glancing over at Kayla.

"Ready to hit the road?"

Kayla nodded, climbing back into the truck as Tank got situated. As he pulled onto the highway, she turned to him.

"You ever think about quittin' this? Like doin' somethin' else?"

Tank considered her question for a moment, gripping the wheel. "Nah. I like the road. It's quiet. Good money, no boss over my shoulder. Ain't gotta deal with people unless I want to."

Kayla nodded, letting his words settle. She understood that it was freedom.

"You tryna figure out what you wanna do?" he asked, glancing at her.

She sighed, looking out the window. "Not really."

Tank reached over, giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze. "You got time, Lil Bit. Ain't no rush."

Kayla looked at him, her heart doing something funny in her chest. Maybe she didn't have everything figured out yet, but right now, riding with Tank, she wasn't in a hurry to.

Tank drove the majority of the night, determined to put a dent in the twelve-hour drive. He kept himself fueled with a couple of apples, a few oranges, and the beef jerky Kayla had bought. She had tried to stay up with him, but as her head started bobbing and her eyes struggled to stay open, he told her to get some rest. Kayla had reluctantly agreed, retreating to the sleeping area, though he could tell she didn't really want to leave him alone.

Even as he drove, Tank kept an eye on her. He meant what he said—she was his. And while Kayla might not have fully realized it yet, he had already claimed her in his mind. He didn't want anything happening to her, and he damn sure didn't like the way other men looked at her, like she was something to devour, like she was a piece of meat. If anything, she was his piece of meat, and he wasn't sharing.

The sun was beginning to rise as Tank made it to Louisville, Kentucky. He was exhausted. He pulled into a rest stop, cutting the engine before locking the doors, covering the windows, and pulling the curtains shut. Finally, he could rest.

Kayla was knocked out under the quilt, wearing just her shorts and a tank top, completely unbothered by the movement of the truck. Tank stripped down to his briefs, rubbing a tired hand down his face before settling onto the mattress beside her. As he did, his eyes landed on her—her soft, brown skin glowing in the dim morning light, her tank top slipping just enough for one of her breasts to peek out.

Tank smirked to himself, shaking his head as he pulled her toward him. Kayla instinctively nestled into his chest, her warm hands sliding around his waist as she exhaled in her sleep. Like always, she threw a leg over his, fully claiming her spot on him.

Tank kissed the top of her head, inhaling her scent—strawberries and mango, just like her lotion. He didn't plan on letting her go anytime soon. She had gotten too comfortable sleeping on him, and the truth was, he had gotten too comfortable with it, too.

With her body pressed against his, her breathing steady, Tank finally allowed himself to drift into a deep, much-needed sleep.