“You would’ve taken the subway.”
“And you’d rather I didn’t?”
“I’d rather you got home without fainting on the fucking train and waking up in Queens.”
I’m already stepping toward the curb. “You are aware that I can take care of myself?”
He steps closer, lowering his voice just enough to make my pulse catch.
“Oh, I’m sure no one’s ever mistaken you for helpless.” He places his hands in the pockets of his slacks, gaze lifting. “I did this, because I wanted to.”
“Well, then I…guess I should say thank you.”
“And I’ll say you’re welcome. Goodnight, Ms. Sinclair.”
“Goodnight.” I pause, fingers brushing the door. “Thanks for the snacks.”
A slight smile. “Anytime.”
I slide into the car, and the door shuts behind me with a soft click that feels strangely final.
As the car pulls away from the curb, I glance back.
He’s still there.
Still watching.
Good God…
I am so unbelievably screwed.
Chapter seven
~DONOVAN~
Sleep hasn’t come easily since the break room. Or at all, if I’m honest.
Six nights, and I’m still stuck in the loop of it—Emma Sinclair’s flushed face under bad fluorescent light, the tremor in her hand when I touched her elbow, the way she said my name like she didn’t mean to.
It should’ve been nothing.
A late night. A vending machine.
A tired employee.
But the second I got home, I was exhausted.
And hard as a rock.
And absolutely furious about it.
I told myself I’d take the edge off, then sleep.
But the second my hand wrapped around my cock, all I could see was her—Emma, standing in that gray skirt, looking up at me like she wanted me to be the mistake she didn’t walk away from.
Every noise that came out of me was hers.
Every breath. Every curse.
