Fucking…. is fucking in your job description because I’m quite positive you would excel at it.
We stare at each other again, an unspoken chemistry swirling between us, after a moment I stop with my staring. “Okay, well I better get going. Thank you so much for your help.”
“I’ll give you an escort home.”
“Really not necessary, officer.” I smile.
“Just to make sure the tire is safe,” he adds.
“Oh… okay.”
I get into my car as he watches on, I grip my steering wheel with force, my palms are sweaty and damn, Dylan the Policeman has me all in a fluster. I pull back onto the road and peek up into the rearview mirror to see him pull out after me, a thrill of excitement runs through my blood.
Please tire, fall off again. Explode or something. I dare you.
We drive the five miles back to my house, and I pull into the driveway, he stops the car against the curb and winds down the passenger side window, I get out and walk over to the car and lean down through it, “See, all safe.”
His hand is leaning on top of the steering wheel as he looks over at me, “Your husband is probably wondering where you are.”
I hear my heartbeat in my ears, “No husband.”
“Boyfriend?”
I shake my head. “No……. You?”
He gives me a slow sexy smile, “Neither.”
“Oh.”
“Do you live with roommates or…...?” he asks.
“I live alone,” I cut him off.
We stare at each other, as if both waiting for the other to say something.
Ask me out.
His eyes hold mine.
Ask me out.
“Well then,” he eventually replies, “You have a nice day.”
Huh…. he’s going?
I step back from the car.
“I’ll see you around, Miss Zoe,” he replies.
When,when will you see me around? If I had ever seen you before, I wouldn’t have forgotten.
He’s dismissing me, crap, I’ve totally misread the situation.
I step back from the car.
“Thanks again.”
“The pleasure was all mine.”
