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My mind races. I know what I should do: wish her luck, offer to call someone, and then walk away. But the thought of leaving her alone in the car park... I can’t.
I'm a protector. I've always been, from the battlegrounds to the hospital wards. And now, it feels like it extends to her, this beautiful stranger making my heart pound in a way it hasn't in a long time.
I make a decision. I'll give her a ride. I'll keep it professional and avoid any emotional involvement. My war-torn heart can't handle that right now, not when it's still mending its own wounds. Why would she be interested anyway? She's a goddess, and I'm just...me.
"Where are you headed?" I ask, trying to sound casual, "I can drive you if you want."
Her eyebrows shoot up, a tiny flicker of doubt in her eyes. But after a moment, she nods.
"Willow Creek."
I can't help but smile, the coincidence feeling oddly fated.
"Perfect, that's where I'm headed too."
Her eyes widen, and she manages a smile despite the discomfort she's clearly experiencing.
"Do you want me to drive your car?" I offer, and she agrees, asking with a furrowed brow if my car will be okay left behind.
"No worries," I reassure her, "My sister can bring me tomorrow."
We switch places, and I slide into the driver's seat, a faint floral scent enveloping me. My hands tighten on the wheel, and I swallow hard, the proximity between us in the confined space of her car igniting a new kind of awareness.
As I pull onto the road leading to Willow Creek, she breaks the silence, her soft voice slicing through the quiet hum of the car's engine.
"Are you new to Willow Creek?" she asks, a curious tilt to her voice. "I've never seen you around."
And with that question, I realize that my simple act of kindness might lead me to something far more complicated. Yet, as I glance at her, I can't help but feel that it might be worth it.
A few silent seconds tick by before I answer, my gaze focused on the deserted road stretching out in front of us.
"I moved here a few months ago."
Then comes the question I always dread.
"Were you working at another hospital before this?"
My grip on the steering wheel tightens.
"I was serving overseas... in the war."
"Oh..." she trails off, a tinge of regret in her voice. "I didn't mean to pry, sorry. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
I shake my head, the gentle breeze from the AC ruffling my hair.
"It's fine. I just... I'd rather leave the past where it belongs. In the past."
I see her out of the corner of my eye. Her hair matted against her forehead, sweat trickling down her neck and disappearing into the valley of her cleavage.
A sudden rush of desire courses through me, and I tighten my hold on the steering wheel. She's stunning, no doubt, but she's nothing more than a fleeting encounter, a one-night stand without the physical aspect.
For a while, silence blankets the car, interrupted only by the occasional flicker of headlights from passing vehicles. Then, she breaks it again with a question that hits me harder than any IED blast.
"Do you really think you can separate your past from who you are today?"
I don't respond immediately. I must be careful. Opening up to her, here in the intimacy of her car under the cover of night, it feels dangerous. The possibility of her witnessing my raw vulnerability, the agony I've kept hidden away for so long... It's terrifying. Yet, a part of me yearns for it, for someone to hear my story, to understand.
But she's not just someone. She's Kate. And she's beautiful. A curvy siren who could easily steal my heart if I let her.
