Page 50 of Strictly Against Policy

The way Jonathan Lo glided through the world never changed. He had always been like this, and it was nothing new. Yet, with the way my breath hitched at the sight of him and the warmth touching my cheeks, it was a confirmation that something had changed between us . . .

Or, more specifically, in me when it came to him. I felt it earlier when I saw him in the lobby of that ostentatious restaurant, but I pushed it down. Now those fluttering emotions were back, stronger.

Why him? The one who, merely a month and a half ago, admitted to his disdain for me yet still helped me in the next breath.

I unlocked the doors for him with a loud click. “That was fast,” I said as he opened the driver’s side door. He wasn’t even gone for ten minutes.

A cocky, lopsided smirk pulled on his lips. “Called the owner, told him I had a hungry girl with me, and I got some special services. I jumped the line by going behind the truck. That’s why I parked far over here, so no one would see.”

“You used me as an excuse to get food ahead of all those people? That’s unfair,” I stated as a matter of fact.

“Lina, you’re hungry, and I’m just trying to feed you in case you become an angry, ravenous woman ready to rip me to shreds because the tiny pretentious bits of food you ate didn’t satisfy you,” he said.

My stomach agreed with a loud grumble.

I froze, heat scorching my face as Jonathan laughed. He handed me two large paper plates covered in aluminum foil with a small paper bag sitting on top of it. With a momentary dip from the car, he climbed in with a large, iced pink drink in hand. His body was so warm that heat practically radiated from him like a furnace. My icy hands almost reached out to ghost over his skin and warm up my fingertips. He glanced at my bare feet, and I could’ve sworn his lips curled tighter.

“You know the owner of this taco stand?” I asked.

“Yeah, we’re regulars, and we befriended him. Come here every Friday night with Julie and the crew,” he answered. “There aren’t any seats outside, so we can eat here in my car. Unless you want me to drop you off at your place?”

“We can eat here,” I said. When Jonathan nodded and turned on his car, I spoke up again. “Are you driving somewhere else?”

Warmth blustered through the vents, drawing a veil of heat over my body. The cloudy, white condensation on the car windows began to thin. Jonathan reached over to the console and turned on the heat to its hottest temperature and pointed the vents directly toward me. He also pressed some more buttons on the driver’s side as the seats started to warm up.

“No, it’s to keep you warm.”

He glanced at my bare thighs. Goosebumps raised along my skin there, making me flush again. He sighed, reaching into the back seat. In a matter of moments, a thick coat was flung across my exposed skin.

“Thank you.”

Jonathan hummed. “For the food,” he nodded toward the paper plates covered in aluminum foil sitting in the middle divider. “I hope you enjoy the al pastor tacos. They’re amazing here.”

“Thank you again,” I repeated, sounding like a broken record.

He shrugged those broad shoulders, his smile stretched from ear to ear. “You keep thanking me.”

I scoffed. “That’s because you keep going out of your way to help me. I could’ve gone home on my own.”

“I’m perfectly aware you’re a capable and independent woman, Lina.” He reached over to pull napkins out of the glove box. His shoulder brushed into mine. “However, I need you to understand that I got you. I’m taking you home and making sure you’re safe and sound for my peace of mind.”

“Did you also make sure whether your date made it home safe and sound?”

He paused for a thoughtful moment to take a sip out of the icy drink he held. He said, “I’m not emotionally invested in her, so I didn’t. But from what I could gather during our date, she’s as perfectly capable as you are.”

“Not emotionally invested?” I asked as he took another drag of his drink.

His wet tongue swiped across his dry lips as his brows cocked at me. He leaned back into his seat, watching me closely. “Yes. I don’t like her.”

My lips fell open, but I couldn’t utter a single word. I didn’t dare. I turned my attention to the cooling food on my lap and began to unwrap the aluminum foil. His face was too distracting. I immediately gathered my emotions under my usual mask of indifference.

“Earlier, you asked me what encouraged me to go on this blind date. What was your reason to go on your blind date?” I asked.

“My mom. She wants me to consider settling down like my sister and cousin. You know, getting married and having kids and all. She’s been trying to convince me to go on a blind date for couple of years already.”

I stole a glance at him. “What was different about it this time?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on his food. “She started talking about the possibility of her passing away—how she didn’t want to die without knowing Julie and me weren’t alone after she was gone. She’s not sick or anywhere close to old age. But we never know how much time we truly have left with someone until they’re gone, like my dad. He died unexpectedly when I was six due to an aneurysm.”