Kane looked at me, a wicked glint in his eye. “Aren’t you going home in a bit, Tristian?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yeah, I am…”
“You could drop her off. Not like you got anything better to do.”
I bit my lip, glancing down at Ingrid. She looked torn between fear and desperation.
“Don’t think that’s a good idea…” I said slowly, trying to give her an out. “She might not be comfortable with someone she just met.”
Amber rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t have to leave early; we’re about to leave soon anyway.”
“You can scratch that,” Kane interrupted. “I’m thinking you ladies are going to be here for a lot longer.” A lewd grin split his features.
I rolled my eyes and turned away. I knew exactly what he was thinking. Alone with Amber and May, two girls practically offering themselves to him on a platter… He wasn’t letting that walk out the door.
I looked down at Ingrid.She was so damn small.
“Do you want me to take you home?” I asked quietly.
She hesitated, then shrugged, looking at her shoes. “Only if you want to… I don’t want to be a bother.”
I sighed, watching her rock back and forth on her heels. “Give me five minutes.”
I grabbed my jacket, wallet, and keys, ignoring the stupid smirk on Kane’s face. When I returned, Ingrid was waiting by the door, handsclasped, sweater sleeves covering half her fingers. I held it open for her, and she brushed past me, close enough that I caught that vanilla-and-rain scent again.
She walked close to my side as I led the way to my black Mercedes.
I opened the passenger door, and she thanked me softly, climbing in.
“Where do you live?” I asked.
“Oakswood County.”
I nodded, bringing the engine to life before I brought the car into a steady, easy drive against the darkness and blur of city lights.
The engine purred, but the silence in the car was heavy, yet charged. Her scent was stronger here, in this enclosed space. Almost overpowering. I wanted to drink it in.
I tried to keep my eyes on the road.
At the first red light, I glanced her way. She was rigid, clutching her sweater hem so tight she was at risk of wearing ten finger-and-thumb-shaped holes through it. The fabric pulled just enough across her curves that I looked away faster than I should have.
Oakswood was old money and manicured lawns past the edges of city. It explained why Ingrid looked at my world like it was a different planet. It was a thirty-minute drive from the heart of Chicago, but looking at her bouncing knee, I decided I’d make it in fifteen, and pressed on the accelerator.
Finally, Ingrid broke the silence. “Y-your name is Tristian?”
I gave her a side-eye. She was staring directly at me now, curiosity overcoming her fear.
“Yeah… and your name is Ingrid?”
She nodded. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five. You?”
“Twenty… What about you?” Then she closed her eyes, mouth clamping shut. “…I asked that already.”
A faint smile tugged at my mouth. It was an awkward start… but something about her awkwardness was almost… cute.
Ingrid rubbed at her arms.
