“Are you cold?”
She nodded, but after a pause, as if admitting it was an inconvenience somehow.
I cranked the heat up, but after a few minutes, she was still shivering. At the next stoplight, I reached into the back seat, twisting around to grab my hoodie.
That’s when I heard it, a tiny, involuntary inhale as I got closer to her unintentionally. Sitting back in my seat, I handed her the hoodie, clearing my throat.
She took it cautiously, her fingers brushing mine—a spark of static electricity that I felt all the way up my arm.
She wrapped it around herself. The fabric swallowed her whole.
“Thank you,” she murmured, snuggling into the fabric.
Seeing her in my clothes did something to my body that I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. So I simply nodded in reply, and fixed my attention back on the road.
Ten minutes later, I slowed the car as we entered the gated community Ingrid had been directing me toward these past few minutes.
“It’s at the end,” she said, pointing.
A mini-mansion dominated the end of the block. Massive, pristine… cold. I pulled up at the head of the drive, and let the engine idle.
For some reason, I didn’t want her to get out.
For some reason, she didn’t seem to be moving either.
But then she did. One hand reached for the door handle. She opened her mouth—to thank me, I was sure—
Impulsively, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the glove compartment. I scrawled my name and number on it.
I handed it to her. “…In case you need something…”
She bit her lip, her eyes meeting mine. She took the paper, fingers brushing mine again, lighting another spark of electricity.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
She stepped out of the car, leaving my hoodie on the seat. Cold air rushed in to replace her warmth. I watched her walk to the door, her silhouette framed by the porch light. She looked back at me for a single, long second before slipping inside.
I drove off, the scent of vanilla still lingering in the car. I told myself I probably wouldn’t see her again, but the tightening in my gut told me otherwise as my mind filed away her scent.
I was in trouble.
Chapter two
Ingrid
Islipped inside the house, leaning my back against the heavy wood of the front door the moment it clicked shut. I exhaled a shaky breath, letting my eyelids flutter closed. The image of him—the dirty blonde hair, the dark ink swirling on his skin, the sharp angle of his jaw—danced behind my eyes. I had never, in person, seen a man who looked like that. The men in my world were clean-cut, polished, andsafe.
And they had zero tattoos.
He seemed rugged but careful at the same time. He was the kind of man my father would have called dangerous. But he’d been nothing but careful with me.
He was different. Dangerous looking, sure, but quiet. He wasn’t much of a talker, yet there was something solitary about him that pulled me in. And his scent… God, how I wished I could have stolen his hoodie just to wrap myself in that intoxicating aroma of pure man.
My eyes snapped open as the reality of my own thoughts caught up to me.What has gotten into me?If my father ever heard thoughts like that, I could consider the outside world gone forever.
A sudden click made me yelp as the living room lamp flooded the space with warm light. My abuelita was sitting in her usual armchair, a homemade crochet quilt draped over her lap.
“Parece que te divertiste…” she said:Looks like you had fun…
