Hans Larsson

"They're not mutually exclusive."

That hand on his thigh caught Rekker's breath and he glanced down at it and then over at his passanger which nearly made him rear end another car that he could barely swerve around. His pulse was pounding now from both the hand and the adrenaline of a near accident.

He didn't respond to that comment, for once, too busy trying to shake off the jitters from the close call. He does smirk though and shift the car up into overdrive to go a bit faster. The roads in the hills were narrow, barely wide enough for two cars in many places and he was now dodging oncoming cars as much as rounding the ones in his lane.

That question though had him slowing so he could stare at the Swede before laughing.

"When the fuck did I say I was dating you? Leave me out of your bullshit made up fantasies." He said it but his eyes glanced down at the hand on his leg. It felt good and his mind was in turmoil. No one liked him and he knew the singer was as likely toying with him like so many others had and yet, that touch had him thinking about dragging the mouthy bitch into the backseat of the car. Rekker took a ragged breath and tried to focus on the road.