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I look down at his hand, lacing my fingers between his, and giving it a squeeze before letting him lead me toward the car. He lets another valet open the door for me this time, and then I watch him slip the one driving a $50 before sliding into the front seat next to me. The radio is already on, and when both doors close, he gives me a sidelong glance before shifting the car into gear and pulling forward. The loud rain surrounds us the second we leave the cover of the front drive.
“I’m gonna take the back way home, too, if that’s ok.” His grip on the steering wheel is tight as he looks out into the road, squinting.
“More time with you?” I deadpan. “Oh no, I’m devastated.” He fits me with an exasperated look, but leans over and puts a hand on my thigh briefly before taking a slow turn.
Fitz is mostly quiet the whole way, the music on the radio serving as the only sound aside from the rain and the occasional far-away horn honk as we take the access road back. He’s not wrong to take the side streets - Texan drivers are bad on normal days. In the rain, it’s like putting a fawn on an ice rink.
It’s not until we’re at the light just a few streets down from where we both live that he pauses to look at me. Immediately, I feel my heart lurch as I realize where we are.
“I, uh,” he starts, and then lets one hand leave the steering wheel to grab the back of his neck, rubbing nervously. “I can take you to yours.” It doesn’t make sense - he’s already taking me to mine. It’s not like he was going to leave me out in the rain. But I tilt my head, fixing him with wide eyes and a small smile that makes him gulp almost audibly.
“Or?” I ask. He blinks, and then a slow smile spreads across his lips.
“Or, you can come back to mine.”
“And you can peel me out of what I’m wearing underneath this.” I gesture down to my torso, and his eyes follow my hands. He bites his lips together as if he’s trying to keep a shit-eating grin from his face, but his hand tightening on the steering wheel tells me all I need to know.
“Among other things,” he agrees with a nod, meeting my eyes. His hand goes back down to the steering wheel and I let my own replace it, feeling my fingers lace into the hair at the nape of his neck. For just a second, his eyes close.
Then, a horn honks behind us, and we both jump.
“I think you’ve seen my place enough,” I supply, turning back toward the road. “Let’s see what Casa de Westfall looks like.” He hastily looks back at the road and signals before turning right from the one lane road into one with a few lanes. The angry mom in a mini van speeds past us, laying on her horn, and I snort, my hand not leaving the back of Fitz’s neck.
Chapter 28
Piper
Weinchtowardtheentrance to the nicer neighborhood on this street, and I’m not surprised when Fitz takes a turn in, slowing down when we reach a white stone house with black detailing. It’s modern and kind of brutal - and it definitely fits what I’d imagined a house bought with Olivia would look like.
Don’t get me wrong, Olivia wasn’t my favorite person in the world growing up. But she certainly wasn’t the worst of my tormentors. No, Olivia was too cool and aloof for that. If she noticed me it was because I was either directly in her way in the hall, or one of her Pom Squad friends needed their uniform stitched up from making one too many high kicks.
But she’s clearly wounded the man next to me - this man that I’ve come to care about, to my own surprise. Which, to me, might as well make her the gum on the bottom of my vintage shoe.
“Fuck,” Fitz mumbles, and I realize he’s digging around in the center console before reaching in front of me and pulling the glove compartment open. “Damn it.”
“What?” I reach and grab my scarf and hair clip before I forget them.
“I left my garage door opener inside. I grabbed it since we weren’t driving that.” He gestures to the car outside my window, next to us in the driveway, a blue sedan. “I must have left it on the counter.”
“Nervous amnesia?” I ask playfully, and he scowls. “Jesus, I’m kidding, Fitz.”
“Sorry.” He steadies himself with a deep breath. “I just wanted tonight to be-"
“It doesn’t have to be anything,” I counter. “Just let it be what it is. Do we need to make a run for the front door?” He eyes me before nodding slowly. “Ok, let’s do it.” He seems surprised, but I reach back and put my fingers around the silver handle, my purse grasped in the other hand.
“Ready?” he asks, and before either of us can second guess it, I’m yanking open the door and slipping out. I feel the cold rain seeping through my stockings the second my legs are outside, but I don’t stop as the door slams behind me and I make my way across the driveway and up the brick path to the front door. Fitz is just in front of me and keeps looking back like he’s expecting me to fall flat on my face going for the door.
In his defense, it’s a totally legitimate concern.
His keys jingle as we make it under the small awning over the front door, providing some cover from the rain as it pours around us. His key clicks in the black door and he pushes it open, ushering me inside before following and closing the door with a thud that echoes in the room we’ve entered.
I laugh, feeling the way my hair is plastered to my cheeks and neck in places, and try to pull it away from my pearl necklace delicately. Fitz looks as soaked as I feel, his hair dark with the water and his usual curls straightened out as they hang around his face. He shakes his head slightly, and water droplets hit me.
“Jesus, down, boy,” I shriek, trying to cover myself. And then I hear a distant jingle and the click-clack of paws on the tile floor. When I turn, I have only a second to glance around the house before Roscoe comes bounding out of what looks like it may be the kitchen. Before he can knock me over, I kick off my heels and do my best to clamber down to the ground and sit, just in time for him to nuzzle up against my face.
“Roscoe,” Fitz chastises, shaking his head again.
“Would you stop that? Go get a towel, you mongrel.” He smiles as he slips his shoes off and puts them on a neat rack near the door, doing the same with mine, like it was second nature. I watch him pad across the entryway, which is cavernous and white with very little decor on the walls, until he disappears into another hall.
