In the car, the moment Damian took the book from my hand flashes through my mind—the heat, the spark—and the terrifying possibility that he felt it too.
Snow thickens as I drive. I should go home. I should. But my hands steer toward Damian’s street anyway. I try to call it autopilot. It isn’t. A few minutes later, I’m parked outside his house.
It’s still difficult to believe how luxurious that big house is inside. The windows are almost black with grime. The garden is an overgrown jungle, and the path is all broken brickwork and clawing weeds. A fortress pretending to be ruins.
Maybe just like him? Gruff and dangerous on the outside, but warm and bright on the inside? That might just be wishful thinking.
No, no, no.
Wishful thinking? Why would I wish for him to be bright on the inside?
I grip the steering wheel and lean back, taking slow, even breaths.
It’s time to be honest with myself. I didn’t drive here by accident. Autopilot wasn’t something I went into. I came here because Damian is interesting to me. I like his broodiness. I enjoy earning his smiles and laughs.
Am I being pushy, being weird? We haven’t exchanged phone numbers, and he hasn’t given me any indication he wants me to return. He only let me decorate because I refused to leave it. Suddenly, I feel like the world’s biggest idiot.
If he wants nothing to do with me, I should just go?—
A loud knock on the window jolts me from my thoughts.
I turn to find a big, bearded man glaring at me through the glass. He gestures for me to roll down the window.
I do so just an inch, enough to hear him but not enough for him to try any funny business.
“Yes, can I help you?” I ask.
He takes a step back as if to give himself more room to glare at me. “Do you know the person who lives there?” He points his thumb over his shoulder at Damian’s house. Before I can even formulate a response, he goes on. “If you do… which you seem to, sweetheart. I saw you here the other day. And you’re parked up outside the place. So that seems reasonable, right?”
“I’m sorry, but could you please lower your voi?—”
“It’s a simple question,” he grunts. “Don’t you think? No? Yes? Hello? Is it a simple question or not? Do you know the person who lives there?”
Somehow, working in a busy and stressful emergency room is easier to conquer than going head-to-head with this jerkoff. I try to remain calm, but my heart pounds in my chest.
“Jesus Christ. What’s so complicated?” he demands.
“Enough.”
The voice comes from behind him. I was so concerned with what this man was going to do that I didn’t even see Damian walking up the path. He moves like a warning you only notice when it’s already too close.
He approaches the man, causing him to turn. They stand side-on, so I can see them both, see the fact that the man is almost as tall as Damian, but nowhere near as wide, nowhere near as thick. Damian looks to me like he’s ready to take the man’s head off.
“What right do you have to talk to her like that?” Damian says, his voice low, but there’s an edge to it.
“I—I…” The man fumbles, trying to recover some of his bravado. He glances at the house, at the open doorway. “Are you the owner?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” Damian snarls, his scar puckering as he scowls. “All that matters is you’ve got no right to speak to her like that. It’s time for you to leave.”
“I’ve left notes,” the man says, his voice cracking. “On your doorstep. Through your letterbox too. Notes asking you to do something about that place. It affectsourproperty prices.”
“I’m not answering your damn questions,” Damian grits out. “Turn around and walk away. I won’t tell you again.”
Damian clenches his fists, and the man spins and basically runs back toward his house. As he flees, Damian watches him, his fists remaining clenched tight with tension.“Damian,” I whisper. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
He slowly turns to me, but it’s clear there’s a part of him that wants to chase after that man. I almost tell him I don’t need protecting, but the truth?
I like it. A shiver dances down my spine, warm phantom kisses fluttering between my legs. I press my thighs together, lying to myself, claiming I can’t feel it, can’t feel anything.
