Page 106 of Stranger to Love

"Moretti and a double gin," I said, my voice flat as I slid the drinks toward him.

"You're a quiet one, aren't you?" he pushed, leaning further over the bar. "I bet you've got a lot to say when you’re not behind a counter."

I punched the total into the till and spun the card machine around without a word. He eventually tapped his card, grumbling as he retreated. I didn't give a fuck.

By 1:00 a.m., Mia killed the music, and the lights revealed the true horror of the sticky floors. We ushered the stragglers toward the door. Every time the front door swung open, a gust of freezing night air reminded me that she was out there. Clean, composed, and utterly in control.

"Go on then, get out of here," Mia said, nudging me with a damp cloth. "I'll finish the bottle count. Your ride's probably seething you’re not already out there."

I rushed to the staff room, grabbed my coat, and stepped out into the cold. My eyes locked onto her immediately.

She was parked in the shadows under the orange glow of a flickering streetlight, leaning against the sleek bonnet of her car, arms folded over her chest. Still in her trench coat, she looked like a scene from a noir film—untouchable and entirely out of place in front of a dive bar.

I practically gravitated toward her. The second I was within reach, her hands found my waist, pulling me flush against her. I didn’t give her a chance to speak; I reached up and claimed her lips, erasing the memory of every Polar Bear I had served tonight.

Carrie let out a soft, amused chuckle against my mouth, pulling back just an inch. "Good shift?"

I rolled my eyes, my forehead resting against hers. "Terrible. Honestly, people are animals. I just want to be here."

I saw the shift in her expression immediately—the protective instinct flickering to life. Her grip on my waist tightened. She wanted a name. Fuck, I loved this protective side of her, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

"Alex," she said, her voice dropping into that authoritative tone. "If someone—"

"Nope," I interrupted, pressing another kiss to her lips to shut her up.

I reached up, fumbling with the clip holding her hair in its perfect, professional twist. Carrie rolled her eyes, a small, indulgent smile tugging at her mouth, but she didn't stop me. I pulled the clip free and let it drop into my pocket, watching as her dark hair spilled down over her shoulders. I ran my hands through the soft strands. She looked less like a lecturer now and more like mine.

"There," I grinned. "Much better. Now take me home?"

Carrie’s gaze softened, her thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "Whatever you want, darling."

She opened the passenger door for me. I watched through the windshield as she shrugged off her trench coat before getting into the driver’s side. I let out a low wolf-whistle as my eyes raked over her in a dark grey dress that was devastating. Carrie rolled her eyes, but the small curve of her lips told me she wasn’t offended. She started the engine, and the car glided away from the curb.

I shifted in my seat, turning my body so I could just stare. The passing streetlights illuminated her sharp, elegant bone structure in rhythmic flashes.

The guilt from earlier tried to snake its way back into my throat. The idea that I could even accidentally look like I was hunting someone else made me feel physically sick. Why would I throw this away? Something flickered in my mind—a thought so foreign, so utterly not me. I don’t do normal. I don’t do proper.

But for her? I wanted the whole damn world to see us.

"Carrie?" I said, my voice sounding smaller than I intended.

She hummed in response, her gaze flicking briefly from the road to me. "Yes, darling?"

I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to back out. "Can I… I mean, would you let me take you on a date?"

The car didn't swerve, but I saw her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. The silence stretched, making my stomach drop.

"A date?" she repeated, her voice unreadable.

"Yeah," I rushed out, the words tumbling over each other. "A real one. No bars where I work, no hidden booths. Somewhere nice. Somewhere where I can actually look at you across a table and not have to worry about anyone else. I want to do this properly. I want to show you that I’m serious about this. About you."

Carrie slowed the car as we approached a red light. She turned her head, her dark eyes searching mine with an intensity that caught my breath. The mask was gone, replaced by something soft, somewhat surprised, and deeply moved.

My brain immediately kicked into overdrive during the silence. She was going to say no. She'd give me a lecture about being her student.

"I mean," I started, a nervous ramble, "I know we aren't exactly supposed to be. Student and teacher. Ethics and all that boring stuff. Maybe that’s why you’re so careful. At Uni, you don't even look at me for a second longer than you look at anyone else. You're so professional. So maybe a date is a stupid idea. Maybe someone might see us and you'd lose everything—"

"Alex," Carrie said, her voice a calm, low vibration that cut through my spiralling thoughts.