She sighed. “Typical.” She really hated the rain. Dad was killed on a rainy day.
I took the suit back to my room and changed into my witchcop clothes. I carefully folded and packed the suit into a rucksack, then headed downstairs to meet Isaac after the Brambles sent me the meeting location.
For a moment, I expected to see him in some spectacular outfit, but he’d changed into a pair of simple black jeans, a black leather jacket, and a white T-shirt. Simple yet incredibly stylish.
To the rest of the city, he’d look like a witchcop, to me he looked…gorgeous.
Crap!
I shut it down, upholding the aloofness I projected so well. “Alright?”
“Yes,” he answered, clearly nervous from the way his voice trembled. “Alice and April have packed my clothes and bits for me. We’re all set.”
A tiny, annoying part of me wanted to offer him my arm to escort him to the car. Under an umbrella, of course.
Hell no! Not even if he would be the perfect accessory.
Why is he so painfully handsome?
Aaron appeared with two black golf umbrellas. “Pissing weather,” he complained.
“One second,” Isaac said, pulling out his phone. He tapped a message quickly, then slid it back into his pocket. “Okay. Let’s do this.” He took the umbrella.
Who did he text? And why was it any of my business?
“Good luck out there,” Aaron said.
And with that, we stepped out into the downpour.
Chapter 17
ISAAC
I’d texted Tony. Told him I’d be at The Coral in a moment of madness.
Make that horny madness.
I wanted to see him, to be pinned by his dark gaze, to feel wanted again, to break this cycle of obsessing over Ollie. Even if it was just a bit of harmless flirting, it would be the antidote I needed to get me back on track.
You’re playing with fire…
Ollie drove us out of the repaired mansion gates, passing the reporters, none of them bothered by our presence. We rode in silence, of course, an awkward atmosphere quickly filling the car.
Honestly, my anxieties were too busy fluttering away for me to give much of a shit. Let him be quiet and moody. I didn’t care. He wasn’t the one about to make an appearance in public so close to theepicenter of drama.
I clasped my hands together in my lap, sitting ramrod straight, eyes on the windscreen. The repetitive gentle scape of the windscreen wipers pushing the rainwater away was a soothing distraction.
“Shame it had to piss down,” Ollie finally spoke.
I blinked, a tad surprised. “Absolutely.”
He turned right, taking the northern route away from the mansion, heading down a residential street. “How are you feeling about this?”
Do you give two fucks?“Weird. Torn. Like there’s two Isaacs—the Davenport one and the Aurora one. I knew I’d have to make them fit at some point, but also hoped to put it off forever.”
“Must be hard.”
Listen to him being all warm. Kind of. “Am I whining?”
