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“What are you doing?” she bites out, attempting to look more grown up than her nineteen years. But she’s had too many drinks, and I’m not allowing her to walk alone. Even though Black Mountain is safe.
“Taking you home,” I snap while waiting for Arabella to set her pert little ass in the seat. I realize I’m angry because she’s tipsy. She shouldn’t be drinking if she can’t handle her liquor. And even though I know why she’s doing it, I still want to spank her pert ass.
She crosses her arms over her chest, and I can’t help my gaze trailing there where I get a glimpse of her cleavage peeking over the neckline of her too-short dress. “I’m not your responsibility.”
“Well, you should be someone’s fucking responsibility. Now get your ass in the car before I get out and put you in myself.” My words leave no room for argument. And for a moment, I expect her to refuse me. She looks pissed enough to tell me to go to hell, but after a long moment, she sighs before slipping into the passenger seat beside me.
“I don’t like being treated like a child,” she tells me, but she’s looking straight ahead.
I lock the doors before speeding out of Alistor’s driveway. “If you don’t act like a child, you won’t be treated like one,” I grit out. Frustration has taken a hold of me, and even though I know I’m being a dick to her, I can’t help it.
My teeth are clenched so hard my jaw ticks, but I grind down to calm myself. It’s not the frustration that she’s tipsy; it’s the fact that I notice just how short her dress is. The hemline slipping up her smooth, creamy thigh. The scent of her fucking strawberry shampoo, or perfume, or whatever the fuck it is envelops my car, and I know I won’t get that delicious fragrance out any time soon.
“It’s scary how short life is,” she speaks in a sobering tone, still looking directly through the window in front of us. “It’s fragile, so easily broken.” Her words have a slight slur, but she’s keeping herself upright, her focus on the road ahead. I sneak glances over at her, taking in the sadness painted on her expression.
“Yes, I know.” My answer is clipped, and I don’t mean to be rude because I know why she’s brought it up, but I’m not sure how to deal with my attraction to her. We’re forbidden—by rules, by the place I work. And she’s barely fucking legal. She’s not mine to claim.
“My parents taught me to pray to God. They told me he’s good and he’ll keep me safe always, and then, guess what he does? He takes the only person who ever loved me away.” Her voice sounds so damn sad I have second thoughts about what I want, about the plan.
I cast a glance over at her and notice the tears that trickle from her eyes.
“I mean, my aunt loves me, but I’m not hers. She didn’t give birth to me.” A sob falls from her lips, and I want nothing more than to hold her, to tell her life goes on, but I can’t. I don’t.
After her breakdown, the silence that fills the car is stifling. Perhaps I should tell her I lost my father too. Maybe I can console her, but that would mean touching her, feeling her, and I can’t do that. A man only has so much restraint, and right now, mine is flimsy with her so close.
I don’t have to ask where she lives. I recall her address from the folder Dawson left on my desk and find the house easily. It’s smaller than mine, but it’s not a place to be frowned upon. Sitting on six acres more or less of land, the gardens are vast. The three-level mansion is built in a modern style with open brick in a soft brown and cream-colored awnings. The windows are all lit up with a golden glow, and I wonder why her aunt needs something this big for just the two of them.
I pull to a stop outside the gate, then turn to Arabella. Her eyes are glassy, her lips swollen and pouty, which has my mind filling with illicit thoughts.
“Look, you’re young, and I know how much it hurts to lose people you love, people you thought would always be around. But you must remember, they wouldn’t want you throwing your life away.” My words seem to hang in the air between us. Her eyes search my face from my eyes down to my lips, and each time she glances at my mouth, I notice how her pupils dilate. I want nothing more than to steal her mouth with mine. But I sit back, as far away from her as I possibly can in the car.
