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I wrap my free arm around his back, the bizarre need to take anything this stranger will give me overwhelming.
“You’re okay. What’s your name?”
“It’s Scarlet.”
His thumb brushes my knuckles, and I let out an exhale, sinking into his chest further. The smell of his cologne is sweet and sickly, and I turn my head to the side, finding a heavier, heady scent instead.
“Scarlet is a lovely name. What brings you to the Montwell today?”
I think about the suit at my back. The attitude he gave me which I gave right back.
He doesn’t seem to have anything smart to say now.
“It’s my birthday… I was meeting my brother for lunch.”
“Today’s your birthday?” The soothing motion pauses on the back of my hand, his grip tightening slightly before he runs the tip of his thumb over the cuticle on my thumbnail.
I nod as shivers rush up my spine from the intimate motion.
“Well, happy birthday.”
“Thank you, Ben.”
I feel myself calm a little, my breathing settling back to normal as his warmth swaths me. I squeeze his hand in mine, latching on a little tighter, thankful.
I’m okay.
Everything is going to be okay.
The elevator jolts under our feet, and Ben’s free hand grabs me at the waist. We set off in motion again, the panel flickering once before the lights blind me.
I look up at Ben as his hands slowly pull away from my body, his smile awkward and his forehead shining with a sheen of sweat.
I frown down at my side, my hand feeling painfully empty.
“Just a glitch,” he says, shrugging it off with an embarrassed smile.
My heart feels like it’s grown three times its size and sits heavy as it thuds, slowly working its way back to a normal rhythm.
I go to look over my shoulder, but the doors ping in the next second, and I watch as Ben steps forward, as if the last couple of minutes never happened.
“This is me,” he mutters, not sparing me a second glance as he walks out of the elevator.
My mouth opens and closes as the doors slide shut behind him. The idea of taking the stairs seems like the right one, but not one I act on quickly enough. I blink twice and turn fully. My gaze locks with Lance’s.
He tips his chin. “You okay?”
I nod and give my best fake smile.
His arms are spread wide on the steel rail at his back, his eyes tight and anchored on me. “Your brother?”
“Mase. Mason Lowell,” I reply with a croak.
His brows lift, and then he cocks his head, dropping his eyes down my front again. It’s not sleazy. It’s questioning, respectful… yet carnal? “Strong name,” he muses.
Whatever it is, it breaks me out of the twisted headspace I’ve backed myself into, and I blow out a whoosh of air, blotting under my eyes with the backs of my index fingers. “Did that even just happen?” I say, looking around the confined space. My body feels agitated and not like my own.
I feel weak.
