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Evangeline stood near the doorway, edging closer to the exit as she struggled to convince herself that she needed to go. Ten minutes after he bought her coffee, she still hadn’t left Mugs.
She wasn’t even sure how it happened. He made a comment right when she turned to go, Evangeline paused, then answered him. One question led to another and, suddenly, they were engaged in a full-blown conversation. She kept trying to find a way to ask him his name, then gave up; it was already awkward that, after talking to him twice, she still didn’t know it.
She kept hoping he’d ask her for hers. He didn’t.
It didn’t seem to bother him. Evangeline tried not to let it bother her.
Her macchiato was down to the ice before she realized that she’d stayed far longer than she meant to. He was still talking but, for some reason, she was finding it a little difficult to concentrate. Her head felt cloudy, her eyelids heavy. The sleepless nights were finally catching up with her.
Holding up her finger, gesturing that she was moving toward the trash while he continued to talk about... something, Evangeline took two steps before stumbling.
He was right there to catch her.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Wha— oh. Yeah. Sorry. I’m just feeling tired all of a sudden. It’s so weird. And you got me a large drink, too. That much caffeine, I should be”—Evangeline couldn’t stop herself from yawning widely—“oof, wired.”
“That’s my fault. You said you had to hurry back and here I am, yakking your ear off.”
Evangeline tried to tell him that it wasn’t him, it was her. Strangely enough, she couldn’t form the words. She ended up nodding, then felt terrible, almost like she was agreeing.
He didn’t take any offense. Instead, after easing the empty plastic cup from her suddenly lax grip and tossing it in the trash, he slung his arm around her shoulders. Evangeline knew there was a reason why he shouldn’t be tucking her close into his side like that but, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what.
He smelled so yummy. Just like a man should smell.
If he noticed the way she nuzzled him, he didn’t say. He just slid his hand up her arm, comforting her. “Let me help you get out of here.”
She started to tell him that she was fine, that she didn’t need his help, but the words got lost along the way. Another heavy yawn ripped out of her as he opened the door, ushering her onto the street.
Evangeline blinked in the sunlight. Her eyes were too sensitive after the darkness inside of the coffee shop. The bright light was almost piercing and she clamped her eyes shut to escape the pain.
Her legs felt weak, like she was dragging. The strong man at her side carried her easily. It dawned on her that he was bringing her somewhere and she was just letting him. Was she crazy? She needed to head back to her apartment.
There was no way he knew where she lived. So where was this stranger taking her?
She opened her eyes just in time to see a shiny black two-door truck parked down a side street. Her stomach jolted. Unless she was wrong, he was leading her right to the vehicle.
God, she hoped s
he was wrong.
In case she wasn’t, she tried to pull away from him. Impossible. The arm that had been so sweetly laid over her shoulder had turned into a chain that kept her tethered in his embrace.
What… what was going on?
He made a bee-line straight for the truck. Without letting go of Evangeline, he opened the passenger seat. Then, while she was too stunned to do anything to fight back, he picked her up easily and sat her in the seat.
No.
She shook her head weakly.
No!
“Shh. Everything’s gonna be okay. I promise.” He reached over her, yanking the seatbelt across her chest before fastening it with a decisive click. “You can trust me.”
Like hell she could. She wanted to scream. Screaming seemed like something she should be doing. But her tongue was too big to fit in her mouth, dry and thick. She tried to open her jaw and felt her head lolling back instead.
A soft whimper escaped her.
