“Being stuck is better than sleeping on the street.” He stood up and reached out his hand. She looked at it like she’d never seen one before, unsure what it was doing in front of her face. “Come on, firecracker.”
“Where?”
“I’ll drive you to your mum’s myself.”
The idea of him taking her anywhere felt risky. She didn’t want to sit in a confined space with him for any length of time. Didn’t want to let that spark she was trying to ignore start to smoulder. “I don’t need you to do that for me.”
“Well, I need to do it for the sake of keeping my job. If you go into shock out here, we’re all in trouble. Get up, Eiley. I promise the hardest part is over.”
She steeled herself, and then stood without his help, ignoring his outstretched hand until he rolled his eyes and let it drop. He reached into his pocket for a set of keys.
“You’re not going to take me in the big fire engine, are you?” If she was going to roll up to Mum’s in the middle of the night to tell her she was moving back in, she at least wanted to do it without a show.
“Why? Haven’t you ever wanted to ride one?” He cocked a playful brow. She only cast him a flat look, which made him chuckle. “All right. Car it is.”
She followed his heavy boots over the cracks in the pavement, unsure if she could meet his eye after the way she’d acted tonight. He went to the passenger side of the emergency response car first, opening the door and waiting until she slipped inside. She made a point of closing it herself, buckling her seatbelt while he rounded the bumper and eventually made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat.
“Music or no music?” he questioned.
She shrugged.
“Fair enough. No music, then. I always like how quiet it is in the wee hours.”
“We don’t have to make small talk, either.” It was the last thing she wanted. It was difficult enough to keep a conversation going at the best of times, never mind with her mind whirling like this.
If he took offence, he didn’t show it, only tipping his head in acknowledgement and starting the car. She gave him the address, and then they were turning off of Main Street.
They drove in silence. The steady lull of the engine dulled the anxiety, the ache in her stomach making her feel like she was wrapped in cotton wool: a nice, unexpected reprieve. She fought not to let her lids close, easier said than done when Warren began humming lightly under his breath. She was surprised to find it wasn’t the most unpleasant sound she’d ever heard, though she failed to identify the rough melody.
Maybe she regretted the no small talk rule. She wished now for the excuse to look at him, temptation fluttering over her, sneaking glances to take him in before he could catch her looking. His profile was mesmerising, from the slight deviation at the bridge of his nose to the devastatingly sharp hinge of his jaw. She pulsed with his proximity, especially when he reached for the gear stick, hand falling inches from her thigh. Most women would think her mad to treat him the way she had, and would probably be right to. Especially now, when he was helping her. Driving her home at gone 3 in the morning likely wasn’t his job, after all.
She wondered what would happen now if she wasn’t so guarded, so marked by previous hurt. What if she was someone who took the opportunities offered up to her? Would she let her fingertips drag over the hollow of his throat like she craved, his skin zapping warmth into her? Where would he kiss her? Would it be soft or rough? Would he moan her name or forget it altogether?
She shifted when the space between her legs began to throb, trying to chase the sensation away. When it didn’t work,she pressed her forehead against the cool window and concentrated on the overgrown hedgerows trailing against the side of the car.
“You okay?” Warren’s voice was husky from so long spent not speaking. She felt his gaze comb over the side of her face, her neck, and tensed.
“Fine,” was about all she could murmur, and it was a lie. Her body didn’t feel like hers. It didn’t usually react this way. Anyone would think she’d never been in a car with someone before.
“At the risk of getting my head bitten off again, am I allowed to ask why you’re only wearing one shoe?”
She almost gasped with relief at the break in tension. If he’d have asked what she was thinking about, she wasn’t sure she could have trusted her body or her words not to betray her. “I was wearing two shoes before I stepped into the bookstore. Only, one of them was a slipper. Turns out I can’t dress myself in the dark. But I wasn’t drunk.”
“You’re like a modern-day Cinderella. If I find the slipper, will you reconsider that drink I proposed?” He flicked a quick sidelong glance at her and she felt her whole body flush with heat – and then confusion. Why on earth would he still want to go for a drink with her after the way she’d snapped at him? And when she was sitting here in soggy pyjamas, about as fragrant as pondwater?
The fluff of her robe suddenly felt too sticky against her skin, and she wished she could take it off. Better yet, she wished she wasn’t here at all. “You’re relentless.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, streetlights passing over his face. “Makes two of us, then. Where were you staying tonight, if not at home?”
“A hotel. We were celebrating my best friend’s book release, except now the books are probably all ruined. Her first ever copies. She’ll be gutted.”
“I’m sure you can figure it out. What types of books does she write?”
“Romantasy.”
“I don’t know what that is,” Warren admitted. “Apparently, I don’t read, remember?”
Eiley fiddled with the belt on her robe. She wished she could takesomeof those crueller insults back. “It’s romance and fantasy mixed together.”
