I sit up straight.The awareness of his closeness makes my nerves spark.I reach for the seatbelt, needing space, but my fingers refuse to cooperate.They poke uselessly at the release button, clumsy and disconnected.
“Here, let me help.”Matthew swiftly steps out of the car.
He comes around and opens the passenger door, the interior light momentarily blinding me.He leans in, reaching for the buckle, his arm pressed lightly across my front.His face is close to mine.Warm breath fans my cheek.The scent of his skin fills my nose.
My heart stutters.
Our eyes meet.
For a long, breathless moment, the world narrows down to this small space, to the intense green of his gaze, to the inches separating our lips.A question lingers in his eyes, mirroring the pull twisting inside me.
The buckle clicks open, breaking the spell.
“There,” he says, the word catching on a rough edge.He steps back quickly, giving me space.
He opens the door wider, extending a hand.
I take a shaky breath and accept his offer.His fingers close around mine, warm and strong.I push myself up, using his hand for support as I swing my legs out.
I stand, steadier than I expected.
I take a step, then another, pulling my hand free.“Thanks, I’m good,” I mumble, smoothing down my dress and avoiding his gaze.
But just as I take another step, my ankle twists on a loose stone.I stumble forward with a sharp cry.
Matthew catches me instantly, arms wrapping around my waist.“Careful.”His grip tightens.“You okay?”
I lean against him for a moment, face burning.“I’m just a walking hazard tonight,” I mutter, trying for a light tone despite the tremor in my voice.
“Then we better get you inside while you’re still in one piece,” he says with a hint of a smile, his arm firm around me.
A giggling sigh of relief bursts out of me.I’m grateful he’s making light of my wobbly state.
As we walk toward the house, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the way my body molds against his with every step.
“Almost there,” he murmurs near my ear.
Still holding me steady with one arm, he fishes a key from his pocket, unlocks the door, and pushes it open.“After you.”The touch of formality feels strangely at odds with the way he’s holding me.
I step into the familiar foyer, but the comfort it normally brings is gone.The alcohol is starting to fade, and in its place, reality floods in.
The cold block letters of Bancroft’s lease termination notice.
James’s sneering face offering his twisted deal.
A nauseating collage of my life in ruins.
I inhale sharply, chest tightening against a rising tide of panic.“About that huge mug of yours…” I say, forcing a lightness into my voice.
Matthew chuckles, tilting his head at me.“You sure you’re still up for that coffee?”
“Of course!The night is young,” I reply with a touch more enthusiasm than planned.“Don’t tell me you work on Saturdays?”
“No, but you do,” he reminds me, eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Did you make it your mission to kill my buzz?”
“Guilty.”Matthew raises both hands in mock surrender.“But I’m a man of my word.So, coffee it is.How about poolside?”
