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This was all fucked.
Midas glanced back at the TV. A different reporter filled the screen. A different story. The waitresses had moved away. He tossed down his cash and the tip and caught Alina beneath the elbow. “Let’s go.”
Coincidence. Had to be. But at the earliest opportunity, he would be calling in some friends because he just needed some clarification. No, what he needed was for his guts to unknot.
In moments, he had Alina back in his ride. As soon as her seatbelt was hooked, he shot into reverse and got them the hell out of there. Midas knew he should probably make some small talk. Ease the tension filling up the interior of the vehicle, but he didn’t know what to say. Mostly because that news report kept blasting through his head.
It wouldn’t be the first time a copycat had tried to follow in the twisted footsteps of Midas’s father. Hell, about four years ago, there had even been one guy who deliberately tried to stage his wife’s death in the same manner because he’d hoped the cops wouldn’t realize that the man had killed his own wife in a jealous fury.
No, not the first time but…
But I still hate it. Hate it for the vic. Hate for the past to rush forward.
So he didn’t have any words to give Alina.
And the tension grew thicker.
***
She’d done something wrong.
Alina twisted her hands in her lap as Midas brought the vehicle to a stop in her driveway. She lived in a small house not too far from the rink. Having her own place was important to her. Her father had protested like crazy when she’d first told him she was moving out of the family estate.
She hadn’t given in, though.
Everyone needed space.
I wanted my own life.
He killed the engine. Tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. And a belated question sprang to her mind. “How did you know where I lived?” The first question she’d asked during the too-silent ride home. She didn’t have a ton of experience with men, but when your date went stone-cold silent on you, that was a bad sign.
Sure, the night hadn’t gotten off to the most stellar start—not with the whole broken-down-car situation. But he’d seemed to be having fun with her at the restaurant. Right up until the dance. When she’d come back from the bathroom—she’d only gone there so the terrible flush in her cheeks could die down after he’d backed away from her—he’d seemed like a completely different person. His amber eyes had blazed and his whole expression had hardened as if it had been cut from stone.
At her question, his fingers stopped tapping. “Saw it in a file while I was reviewing notes at the rink earlier. Remembered it because it’s close to my own place.”
It was?
“That’s why I was on the same road tonight,” he added smoothly. “Both heading the same way.”
“Where do you live?”
“Two blocks away.”
Oh. That was close. “It’s a great area. Quiet.” And she was rambling again. The man was not interested. Time for her to go.
Too bad. She’d been so excited at the sensual promise that seemed to flicker between them. After waiting forever to finally feel that promise with someone, the night was sure settling into a heavy disappointment. She reached for the door.
“I’m coming inside.”
Her head snapped back toward him. “I…don’t remember inviting you inside.” The man could not keep running hot and cold on her.
“I—”
“Look, either you’re interested or you’re not. I’m not into playing games. Mostly because I do not know how to play them.” Her dating history was abysmal. Not like she’d gained the knowledge to confidently play a game with anyone.
“Fuck. You are so honest.”
“What am I supposed to do? Lie?” A shake of her head. Her hand pressed to the handle on the side of the door. “You backed away on the dance floor.” Backed away like she’d burned the man. “You’ve been acting like you couldn’t wait to drop me off. Now you want to come inside?” Make up your mind, Midas.
