Wrapped Up: A Triple Threat Sports Romance by Lexi Cross

meeting out of town after lunch. Will be home around seven tonight.
     
    The world didn’t explode after I texted him. Nothing happened. It did feel a little strange, a little foreign to be so connected with someone for the first time ever, but other than that, everything was fine. Part of me felt like I would eventually get used to it. Another part of me wanted to scream and run away.
     
    I was torn between the comfortable feeling of being kept and the anxiety of being controlled. I wasn’t sure how long our relationship was going to work out if I had to do that every day, or every time I left the house, or at all. It was one thing to let him know if I was going to be late, it was another thing entirely to let him know what I was doing at all times.
     
    I tried not to let it bother me as I drove out to meet with one of my father’s oldest partners. We were trying to work out a new investment deal in the company. Mr. Edwards wanted to change the amount of money he was putting into our operations, and I was heading out with some documents prepared by the company’s finance department. I offered to have our financial directors meet with him, but Mr. Edwards had insisted on meeting just with me or with my father.
     
    The drive out to his old ranch-style home wasn’t that bad. The meeting even went well. I’d met with Mr. Edwards before with my father, but it was the first time in the five years since my father retired that he wanted to make any changes to his investment. He wanted to put more money in so he could get more money out, but he wanted to look over the portfolio from the last few years. He wanted to see how we had been doing and what we were doing to ensure continued growth given the stagnant state of the current market.
     
    He had pledged to invest more money before I left, which I knew would please my father as much as it pleased me. Mr. Edwards had been one of our top investors for as long as I could remember.
     
    On the way back, however, things didn’t go so well. A few miles out of town, I heard a loud pop underneath the car. Then, I heard the blown tire flapping on the road as I drove. I slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road.
     
    I had no bars, no service on my phone.
     
    There was no chance I could get ahold of Jake, or anyone else, to come out and help me, and all I could think about was how I hadn’t told Jake exactly where I was going to be. He knew I was going to be a little late getting home, but he had no idea where I was.
     
    I had a spare, but I had never changed a tire before in my life. I had no idea how to even start to do it. I was also dressed for work, so getting someone else to do it for me was definitely preferable to doing it myself.
     
    I sat in the car and stared at my phone, waiting for a signal to just magically appear, but I was in a dead zone. The signal didn’t even fluctuate.
     
    I had told him I was going to be home by a certain time, dammit, and I was determined to do everything I could to get home by that time. I popped the trunk and got out of the car, leaving my suit jacket in the passenger seat.
     
    In heels and a skirt, I drug the spare tire out of the trunk and rolled it over to the passenger side rear tire. I grabbed the jack and the tire iron. I placed the jack under the back of the car and inserted the tool to turn it and lift the car.
     
    I was just guessing at that point. I didn’t know if I was doing anything correctly, but when the car started to lift off the ground, I figured I was doing something right. Once the wheel was off the ground, I took the tool and put it on the lug nuts. I tried to loosen them, but not a single one would come loose.
     
    It was embarrassing to find myself stuck on the side of the road with no way to call for help and unable to do something that seemed as simple as changing my own damn tire. I checked my phone to see if I had enough signal to text Jake and let him know where I was.
     
    It was after seven