"The rest of the wiring in the shop should hold," I force myself to say. "You should head home. Get some rest."
Disappointment flickers across her face before she hides it. "Okay."
She gathers her things while I wait near the windows. She grabs an umbrella leaning in the corner by the door and opens it as we step out into the rain. It’s huge, but I put my arm around her shoulder to keep us close beneath it. Her soft curves fit against me like we were made for each other. My cock threatens to wake up as heat from her body radiates into my side.
Her car is parked under a streetlight, and I wait while she unlocks it. She pauses with her hand on the door handle, looking up at me. Rain falls all around us, and she shivers slightly.
"Thank you," she says. "For coming back. For staying as long as you did."
“I should let you get home.” The words taste wrong even as I say them.
"Then why are you still standing here?"
Because if I don't, I'll follow you home. I'll make sure you get inside safely, and then I'll kiss you again in your doorway, and I won't be able to walk away a second time.
"Because we both need to think about what this is," I say instead. "What we want it to be."
She studies my face for a long moment, rain streaming around us. Then she nods. "Okay."
"Get in," I say gently. "Before you catch cold."
She climbs into the driver's seat, and I close the door for her. From under the umbrella, I watch her start the engine, turn on the heat. The windows begin to defog. She's safe. Warm. Protected from the storm.
But I still can't make myself walk away.
I tap on her window, and she rolls it down partway.
"Text me when you get home," I say. "So I know you made it safe."
Her smile is soft and surprised. "Put your number in my phone." She taps her phone, then hands it to me. I add myself as a contact and hand it back to her.
"I mean it, Elorie. I need to know you're safe."
"I will. I promise."
I step back, and she pulls out of the parking spot. I watch her taillights disappear down the street, rain hammering around me.
Only when she's completely out of sight do I walk to my truck.
Inside the cab, I sit with the engine running and stare at my phone. Ten minutes pass. Then it buzzes.
Elorie: Home safe. Thank you for worrying about me.
Relief floods through me, sharp and immediate.
Brooks: Good. Lock your doors. I'll drop off your umbrella tomorrow.
Elorie: Promise?
Brooks: Promise.
I set the phone down and grip the steering wheel. Every instinct still screams at me to drive to her apartment. To make sure her building is secure. That her locks are strong enough. That she's really, truly safe.
But I start the engine and drive toward the mountains instead.
The roads are slick and dark. My mind replays everything: the kiss, the way she looked at me, the trust in her eyes when I said I'd come back. The way she shivered in the rain, and I wanted to wrap her in my jacket and never let her go.
It’s late by the time I reach my cabin. I check my phone one more time.
