AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I could ignore it and push off, crossing the street.
My phone goes off again, and I glance down at the new text from my cousin’s wife.
Natalie
We’re headed to bed, Mel! You have a key for the front door, right?
Yep. I’ll be home soon.
Okay, great. Hope you had fun. Xoxo
A shadow crosses in front of me. Without thinking, I drop my phone and yell. It takes a minute for my eyes and mind to catch up—that it’s not a mugger approaching, but Jacob Rhodes.
I swallow and bend to pick up my fallen cell. It landed unscathed, luckily.
He tilts his head. “Scared you?”
“You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that.”
He holds out his hand. “Come on. Let me drive you home.”
I tilt my head, staring at the offering. If I turned his hand over, would I find his knuckles scraped and bruised?
“Does this feel familiar?”
I jerk my attention to his face, my breath catching. “Should it?”
His gaze heats my face. Like he’s trying to press something into me, but it just hits a barrier in my mind and slides away. Whatever memory he’s thinking of, it’s lost on me.
“Melody.”
“Jacob,” I reply.
He smiles. “Come on. Let me drive you home.”
With a little exhale, I put my hand in his. It’s the first time we’ve touched, I think. Well, the first time I’m more conscious of it, and the first time I’ve initiated it. Passing me the tickets was transactional, and at the last game in New York… he thought I was someone else.
Or rather, he thought I wasme. But now I’m someone else.
A spark travels down my spine.
I allow him to guide me back the way we came, to the parking garage I passed. He still has my hand. I trail after him through the parking garage, down one ramp, and the lights on a flashy sports car flicker at us.
“I assumed you were more of a truck guy.”
I don’t know why. He just doesn’t seem like he has to compensate for something with a high-end, too-fast car. I envision him in a pickup truck. Not tricked out or anything, just kind of plain. Good for getting a job done.
He laughs. “Yeah?”
I shrug.
“Do you like Denver?”
His car has a million colored lights and a whole computer embedded in the dash. The engine comes on with a soft purr, unlike Thomas’s behemoth that groans and growls like it’s on its last limb. It’s just a different level of luxury.
“It’s growing on me,” I answer.
“I haven’t decided about it.” He eyes me. “How’s the memory thing going?”
