As soon as Huxley’s name is out of his brother’s mouth, his hand lands on my thigh.
My shoulders straighten, and my heart rate triples.
What the fuck is he playing at?
My knee-jerk reaction is to shove his hand away, but the sudden movement would be much more obvious than whatever the hell Huxley is currently doing. His palm is scalding against my thigh, only my tights separating me from him. He squeezes once, then lets his hand relax, his index finger making lazy circles near my knee.
I stutter out a nervous laugh, answering some kind of pleasantry while all my attention is now on Huxley’s hand slowly moving up my thigh.
A deranged part of me is curious to see how far he’d try to push this, but thankfully, that part of me is small enough that I manage to squash any desire to be reckless.
Instead, I do the only thing that comes to mind and abruptly stand up.
Jamie looks up at me. “You’re leaving?”
Perfect, an out.
I give her a small pout. “Yeah, it’s getting late — big day tomorrow.” I look over to Ozzy and smile. “Thank you so much for dinner, it was amazing.”
“Can I bum a ride?” I hear Huxley say from his seat.
Slowly, I look down, widening my eyes at him, trying to convey my exasperation.
I try to protest as innocently as possible. “What about Soph? She drove you here.”
I glance over to Sophia, hoping for some backup. But the knowing smile on her lips tells me she’s not planning to do any such thing.
“I had one glass too many,” she says, “Apparently I’m a lightweight, so I’m just going to crash here.”
“Great,” Huxley says as he stands up. “I’ll grab our coats.”
I waituntil we’re alone and Huxley has slammed the passenger door closed to snap.
“What the hell was that?”
I don’t wait for him to answer to start driving, pulling out of the driveway, indignation bubbling through my veins. Even with my eyes on the road, I still catch his smirk as he fastens his seatbelt.
“What was what?” he asks slowly.
“That little stunt you just pulled,” I hiss.
“Ah, that.” His tone is flat as if I’m boring him. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
My reaction is instantaneous. I start to laugh. It’s dry and cold, my knuckles turning white around the steering wheel.
“You know what?” I say, suddenly feeling alotcalmer than I’ve felt all night. “I’m too old for this shit.”
I make a hard right and park on the side of the deserted street, ignoring Huxley’s confused protest. I turn to face him, one arm over the steering wheel.
“Get out.”
I don’t know if I even mean it or if this is just a desperate attempt to take back control.
Huxley’s face is impassive as if he doesn’t believe the threat. His posture is relaxed, his head lolled to the side against the headrest while he watches me. His eyes rove over my face, seemingly busy thinking while staring at me. His gaze on my face feels like he’s actually touching me, like a slow caress of his hand on my skin. I burn up right along with the sudden shift in the air between us.
His voice is low when he speaks. “You know what I did after you sent me that picture?”
It’s dark, smooth, and delicious. I want to bathe in the sound. I swallow hard, my heart in my throat, as my lips part like they have a mind of their own.
