Things were fairly quiet leaving the opera house. Poppy could see Luke was upset and he kept rolling his bottom lip between his fingers as he tapped his other hand on his Lamborghini's steering wheel in repetition.
"Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help."
"Why? It's not like you ever asked me how I feel before. Cut the crap, Claudia. You've been far too nice tonight, and suddenly you're turning over a new leaf playing little-miss-goodie-two-shoes. I don't buy it."
"I'm just trying to help."
Luke shook his head in annoyance as he turned toward their home. "I'm not staying at the penthouse tonight. I'm just going to drop you off. I need some space."
"Drop me off? Where are you taking me? This is the wrong way."
"Home," he snapped, looking over at her with a look of disgust. "What are you on? You've been acting weird all night."
"Nothing. I told you I don't do drugs."
"Whatever. Since when? I've been trying to get you clean since we met."
