Drake White's hand suddenly slipped on the steering wheel—was it what he thought it meant?
Someone was chasing them closely behind. If he changed positions, it would mean stopping the car, giving the pursuers an opportunity.
"Switching seats now doesn't seem appropriate."
Who would have thought.
Claire Green's eyes glinted with a hint of defiance. She lazily kicked the back of the seat, "Hurry up."
In the end.
She raised her chin, "Climb over to the passenger seat."
What the hell are you talking about?
Drake White widened his eyes, wanting to turn his head but realizing he was driving, he forced himself to hold back.
"Climb over, are you sure you're not joking?" His voice was full of astonishment.
In this high-speed situation, this person was asking him to climb to the passenger seat—wouldn't that lead to a wreck?
The low hum from Claire Green conveyed danger to Drake White, and without another word, he reduced the speed and obediently climbed into the passenger seat.
