Claire's POV
"I need to get back home and grab some clothes for tomorrow."
He shot me a quick glance, his brows furrowing. "No, you don't." His eyes returned to the road. "We'll just shop for whatever you need when we get there."
"Louis…"
"Hey." His voice softened. "I'm getting us on an early flight. And I mean crack-of-dawn early. I don't want you running back and forth between places."
His hand slid across the console and settled on my exposed thigh, rubbing absentmindedly. The touch sent a shiver racing through me, and I instinctively squeezed my legs together.
In the process, I trapped a few of his fingers between my thighs.
His gaze immediately dropped.
The contrast was impossible to ignore—his fingers cool against the warmth of my skin, the spot where they rested tingling beneath the contact.
For a brief second, neither of us moved. Then his jaw tightened slightly before his attention returned to the road.
