Not happening.
“You can’t just stand here all night,” he says, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Watch me.”
“Kat,” he says, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I can drive you.” The offer comes easily, and it should be an easy solution. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes, and I can put this whole shitty evening behind me. But it’s not that easy, it never is. Something old and instinctive curls tight in my chest, making my heartbeat sound louder. But the feeling doesn’t form in the way it normallydoes. Am I losing my instincts, or is this what passes for trust in my brain now? The fact that I’m not sure definitely complicates things.
“I’m fine,” I say, defaulting to the excuse through instinct. “It’s not far.”
“Let me take you home.” He’s moved impossibly close now. I didn’t even realize there was space still left between us, but apparently there was. I shake my head, stepping back slightly, putting the fraction of space between us back into place. “Alright,” he says, stepping back, but the hand that holds the umbrella doesn’t move, still keeping me sheltered. “I’ll call you a cab.”
My stomach knots immediately. “No, that’s not—”
“I’m not asking.” Before I have a chance to protest any further, he slides his phone out of his pocket and taps a few times before tucking it back again. “Three minutes.”
I hesitate. The feeling that’s currently sitting heavy on my chest is foreign. A dark part of me expects him to want something from me, but from the look in his eye, I’m not so sure. There’s no expectancy there, just what looks like concern.
“Thank you,” I whisper, admitting defeat and dropping my eyes to the floor.
Stillness settles between us for a few moments. The heavy rain has now softened to a heavy patter against the umbrella. The streetlights flicker faintly above us, casting everything in that same dull, golden haze. I’m suddenly very aware of how close he’s standing. The heat radiates off him despite the cold as our chests almost touch.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
“I’m n-not,” I say, but the shiver that runs through me betrays my words.
“Here,” he says, shrugging off his suit jacket before draping it over my shoulders with one hand.
“I’m fine,” I state as I try to wiggle out of the jacket, but he holds it firm against my chest. My breathing stutters at the feeling of his knuckles against my breastbone. Even through my thick jacket, the heat radiates through the fabric and settles right into my chest.
I try to speak, but my mouth runs dry. I lick my lips, and his eyes track the movement. His vibrant eyes turn hooded, and I’m about one move away from fully hyperventilating at this fucking point. The mist from our breath coils together in what little space there is between us.
“Thank you,” I whisper. I clasp my hands around the jacket, holding it close to me. I expect him to let go, but he doesn’t; he just pulls me ever so closer so that our chests are just barely touching. The chill that I felt just moments ago is replaced by searing heat at each point of contact. His breath fans against my face, and his scent overwhelms me and scrambles my brain. My chest rises and falls, pressing further into him without even meaning to. My mind is telling me to drop this jacket and limp away as fast as I can, but every fibre of my body is pulling me towards him like a gravitational pull.
“Kat,” he breathes, and the sound of my name on his lips like this sends delicious sensations pooling low in my core.
The beam of headlights coming down the street, along with apingon Elias’s cellphone, slashes through the moment.
“That’s my ride.” I cringe at myself for the cliché of it all as the cab slows to a stop in front of Elias’s car.
I move to shrug out of his jacket, but he holds it tight. “Keep it,” he says firmly.
“Thank you,” I say as I take a step towards the car. “I’ll see you later.”
A flicker of something passes over his face before he steps forward and pulls the car door open before I can.
“Text me when you get home,” he says. My breathing catches in my throat as he leans towards me, half inside the car. My lips part as he takes the seatbelt and pulls it around me, clicking it softly into the holder. Every nerve ending in my brain is scrambled and on fucking fire. He’s so close I can see the pulse in his neck pumping faintly beneath his perfect skin. There are droplets of rain falling from his long hair onto my jacket, and I have to fight the twitch in my hand that’s about two seconds away from running through his hair.
I blink up at him. “I don’t have your number,” I blurt out. It takes every remaining ounce of focus to keep my voice steady.
“It’s in the jacket pocket,” he says with a lethal curve to his lips, gesturing to the black suit jacket currently saving the poor cab driver’s seat from the mud and rain on my ass.
I barely have time to think of a response before he pulls away. I instantly feel the loss of him. “Goodnight, Kat,” he says finally before shutting the door.
He leans in through the passenger window, and I see a glimpse of a hundred-dollar bill being passed to the driver. My mouth hangs open slightly and doesn’t close until we peel away from the sidewalk. I look back to see him standing in the middle of the road, watching me leave. He’s still standing there as we turn onto the side street, and it’s at this point that I realize I’m still clutching his jacket like it’s my only tether to this world.
What the fuck happened tonight?
Thirteen
