Page 17 of Stranger to Love

As we reached the building door, I tried to unzip Holly’s bag, which was secured across her chest, to get her keys out. She mumbled, loud enough for both of us to hear, "Just because you're gay doesn't mean you get to touch my boobs, Alex.”

Kill me then.

I grabbed her keys, purposefully avoiding looking at Dr. Carter, who kept Holly upright as I unlocked the door. Then, we both carefully manoeuvred Holly inside. Thank fuck there was a lift.

“Holly,” I lifted up her chin. “Sweetheart, which flat and room?”

Holly mumbled, “13B.”

Dr. Carter pressed the lift button, her eyes coolly scanning the floor numbers. We made it to her flat without further incident. The lift ride was thick with awkward silence, but quite frankly, it was past 1:00 a.m. Who in their right mind wanted to make small talk?

I was deeply grateful for Dr. Carter’s presence in that moment, as she efficiently helped to steer Holly through the flat door and then her room door while I fumbled with the keys. Finally inside, without hesitation, I gently scooped Holly up, lifted her away from Dr. Carter’s supporting grip, and softly laid her on her bed, pulling off her shoes.

I swiftly grabbed the bin, placing it bedside, then took the empty glass from her table and filled it with water from the ensuite. I sat on the edge of the bed as Holly dug herself under the duvet. She sleepily opened her eyes. “Thanks, Alex.”

I offered a small smile. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” I brushed her curls out of her face as I said, “Get some sleep.” Then, I grabbed her notebook from the desk, pulled out a piece of paper, and quickly wrote her a note to find in the morning, including my number. “Text me when you wake up so I know you're alive.”

She giggled. “Okay.” And then she pulled the duvet up, snuggling into the bed.

I shook my head, a lingering smile on my face, and stood, turning to find Dr. Carter standing silently in the doorway. For a genuine minute, I had forgotten she was there. She was looking at me with an expression that was strangely soft. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she simply turned and walked away.

I placed Holly’s keys by her bag on her desk and pulled the room door closed behind me. The Yale locks clicked, making the situation easier knowing she was secured. We exited the flat, descended in the lift in silence, and left the building without saying a word to each other.

As we headed back toward the gate, I realised I should probably say something. I wasn't sure what we would have done if she hadn't appeared out of the shadows that night.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely as we walked.

She didn't look at me. “You’re welcome.”

I looked at her. Damn that woman. You could cut glass with her jawline. The absurdity of the situation clouded my mind as the security guard opened the gate again for us, and we stepped back onto the street.

I stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure what to say next. She looked at me, her eyes narrowed slightly.

“How are you getting home?” she asked, her voice calm, cool, and collected as always.

I gestured down the street. “Walking.”

She nodded and started walking in the direction I had pointed. Oh, okay then. I walked slightly behind her. Was she walking with me? Were we just walking the same direction? No idea, but watching her walk in front of me was giving me a chance to breathe. What a fucking day. I was exhausted, I had spent hours dealing with stupid drunks, trying to get sweet Holly home, and my face stung.

Oh shit, my face. I must have looked a right state. I groaned, tentatively touching the swollen lump. Fuck’s sake.

Dr. Carter suddenly turned into the car park we were passing. Ah. So we were just walking the same way. She didn’t say anything to me, so I just shrugged it off and kept walking. She was a strangely cold yet obviously caring woman. My type, I thought, allowing myself a quick internal smirk, but she seemed completely untouchable.

“Alex.” She called my name, and I stopped dead.

I turned slowly, just as I was about to pass the car park’s open gates. I took a step back and looked at her. “Yeah?”

She tilted her head slightly. “Come on.” And she turned on her heel, walking toward one of the only cars left in the car park.

Was I being abducted? By her? Yeah, of course I was going to get in the fucking car.

I whistled as I approached. What a car—some sort of big Mercedes, slick, black, of course. She glanced at me as I admired the vehicle, rolled her eyes, and opened the passenger door for me. I smirked, unable to help myself. “Very courteous of you.” She closed the door with what I believed to be more force than necessary, which only made me smirk more.

She settled into the driver’s seat, but not before deliberately taking off her coat and hanging it neatly in the back. Fucking hell. Underneath, she was in tailored black trousers and a dark blue shirt, the top two buttons undone—a stark contrast to the severity of her classroom attire—with her sleeves rolled up. As she closed the door, I had to physically force my gaze away.

She tapped the steering wheel as she started the engine, the headlights beaming in front of us. Then she looked at me.

“Alex, I don't know where you live,” she said dryly.