Harold's POV
The privacy screen slid up, cutting us off from the driver. I let my act drop completely.
I gazed down at Phoebe's apologetic smile, then pulled her onto my lap and touched my forehead to hers.
"Baby, I'm really bothered right now. Can you see that?" My voice came out whiny, like some guy whose girl just crushed his heart.
Sitting across my thighs, Phoebe wrapped her arms around my neck without thinking.
Maybe because we'd done this so many times, it had become automatic for her.
Every time I lifted her up like this, she'd hold onto me instinctively, just keeping her balance.
The move was so natural that I could tell Phoebe didn't know whether to laugh or feel embarrassed about her own trained reaction.
But her compliance made me unexpectedly happy, and I relaxed my hold on her waist just a bit.
Phoebe rolled her eyes and pouted. "Yeah, I can see it. But didn't I explain everything already? What are you still mad about?"
