River
The handle of my briefcase clattered like a cymbal crash in the otherwise drowsy interior of Jayce’s truck as I flicked it by accident. I flinched, tried to stop, and ended up doing it again because I couldn’t get myself under control. I had no idea why I was so fucking nervous. We weren’t doing anything exciting, just going back to Jayce’s house.
Again.
“Fuck,” I whispered to myself and used both hands to stop the handle on the case from moving.
Jayce smiled over at me, and a weird floaty sensation expanded in my chest. The way his eyes squinted a little and his lips curved at the corners like he was amused by me…. I didn’t know what to do with that.
“I really could have driven myself. I don’t like leaving the Maserati in the parking lot,” I grumbled, and my words came out sounding harsher than I’d intended. “Some asshole is going to either key it because they know it’s mine or boost it because theydon’tknow it’s mine.”
“There’s security at your building,” he reminded me, as if it wasn’t my fucking workplace and he hadn’t lasted through nearly fifteen minutes of me bitching earlier before he’d brought me to his truck anyway.
“I know,” I snapped and glanced out the window at the streetlights blurring past us in the night. “I just don’t know why you insisted on driving me.”
He tutted, an honest-to-God Britishy little clicking sound that both irritated the shit out of me and had me wanting to laugh. “You’re too much.”
“Fuck off.”
“River.” Stern voice. Eyebrows lowered when I cut a quick glance at him to check. My stomach felt like it plummeted out of me onto the road and got left behind.
“Sorry, Sir,” I whispered.
The happy little grunt that escaped Jayce had me warming inside.
“I’ll answer your question about why I forced the issue of driving you,” he said crisply. “Since you seem to need to hear me say the words. I care about your wellbeing, River. I’m driving because you had a long day. Because by the time I swung back around to check on you again after dinner, you were nearly asleep at your desk. You also had no plans to pack it in yet, even though I could tell you should have two hours ago. I’m driving because it’s late and you never know when to quit. That do it for you? Or shall I continue?” He cut a glance at me before fixing his attention back on the road in front of us. I liked this about him, too. I liked that he could fight with me but not get upset. So few people knew how to have a good argument.
My heart pounded harder. “You’re exerting a lot of effort for a piece of ass, is all I’m saying. I would have made it home alive. No one else who has fucked me would have come to walk me out of my office. Why did you?”
“River,” he snapped. Uh-oh. Apparently he had limits too. “I’m not going to justify that bullshite with an answer. You’re done—now. I’ve explained myself plenty, and you’re being too much.”
I glanced at him again. His jaw was hard, and he scowled, glaring at the car ahead of us.
“Why should I quit? Your actions need explanations because they make no fucking sense to reasonable thinking people, namely myself.”
Jayce grunted and then laughed. “You’re feeling uncomfortable, then?” He adjusted the air, cranking up the heat. It puffed his cologne around the interior, and the rich scent had my dick perking up for him. He must have sprayed more on before he came back to get me because it smelled sharp and fresh.
“Oh fucking hell. Here we go. You think you know me?” I muttered, embarrassment making my face burn. I fumbled my glasses up my nose, using my thumb to shove them higher on my face. “Explain what the hell you think you know about me, but rest assured you’re wrong. You don’t know anything.”
“You start being a brat anytime we do something together that’s intense. Anytime we spend a little too long together, this side of you that needs a good spanking comes flitting to the surface. I can’t figure out if you think you’re going to push me away, or you want me to force you to stop.”
I curled my fingers tightly around my briefcase. “I’m not a twenty-year-old twink, Sir. I’m too old to be a brat.”
“You break barriers everywhere you go, Lamb,” he murmured, and I shot a look at him I hoped he interpreted as “fuck off.” He smirked and winked.
“You’re spending too much time with me. You’re starting to sound all lawyerly. Actually, you’re annoying. Did you spend too much time with Madden and his person?”
“You mean I’m a sarcastic arse.” He turned enough toward me that the dashboard lights lit up his face and highlighted his best features—his warm smile and kind eyes. The rest of him was mostly in shadow, but that was fine. As long as I could see I hadn’t managed to piss him off, my heart stayed in the reasonable range of racing.
“Exactly.”
He laughed, and I was feeling slightly better by the time he pulled into the driveway of his house. The relief that washed through me at the sight of the porchlight on, and the fact that I knew there would be a nightlight plugged into the wall in the living room, and the light would be on over the stove in the kitchen—unlike my completely dark apartment downtown—was both comforting and disconcerting.
“I’m not a brat. I just… I don’t know.” I glanced out of the window when we came to a stop. Nearby there was a ball of fuzz in the yard—a bunny, not even scared of the vehicle. I stared at it calmly munching and hopping around. “I need a certain level of engagement with everything I do, or it doesn’t seem worth my time. That’s not being a brat.”
Jayce hummed like he wasn’t entirely sure he believed me or agreed with me.
“Do you want me to be one of those annoying subs who never listens?” The thought had me squirming inside. It would be fun for a while, but honestly, I didn’t like the idea at all. Even worse, I was starting to like Jayce enough that I knew, deep down, I might force myself to do it if he said yes.
