Her fingers tightened slightly where they rested on my shoulders, and for a second, she didn’t let go.
It was the smallest hesitation, barely a flicker, but I felt it. Her warmth against my back, the way she had melted into me for a brief moment, how her breathing had evened out like she wasn’t used to being taken care of like this.
I didn’t rush her. I didn’t say a damn thing. I missed this feeling for years and I knew speaking would ruin this connection.
But then, she cleared her throat, adjusted her grip, and let out a soft, almost reluctant sigh.
“Alright, chauffeur,” she murmured, her tone back to teasing, but there was something else under it now. Something I wasn’t sure she realized.
Before I could say anything, she slid off my back, her hands lingering on my shoulders for a second too long before she stepped away.
The sudden loss of her warmth was stupidly noticeable.
She smoothed her dress down, shaking it off, acting like she hadn’t just been wrapped around me like she belonged there.
“You still in one piece?” I smirked, stretching my arms.
“Unfortunately, yes,” she deadpanned, brushing past me toward the car.
I grinned, following her, but the shift happened fast. Halfway there, her stride slowed, her fingers twitched slightly at her sides, and then—her entire body stiffened.
I barely caught it before she forced herself to keep moving, but I didn’t miss the way her shoulders tensed like a vice, or the way she lowered her chin just enough to look through her lashes.
I followed her line of sight and that’s when I saw him.
A policeman, parked three spots down.
I didn’t think much of it, nodding in greeting, but the second I did, Michelle jumped. Like full-body jolt, heartbeat-skipping, fight-or-flight kind of jump.
Then, just as quickly, she schooled her features, expression blank, blinking too much.
She turned away, running her hands down the sides of her dress again, as if the fabric had somehow changed in the last five seconds.
My gut tightened. Something was wrong.
She reached the car first and leaned against it, arms crossed, her eyes dark, unreadable.
“You alright?” I asked slowly. “Worried about mooning an officer of the law?”
She snorted, but it was off. Forced.
“No.” She sucked in her cheek, gaze flicking toward the cop again before snapping back to me. “Let’s go.”
I hesitated.
She was acting weird as hell, her energy completely different now, but I knew better than to push her when she was like this. So I just nodded, unlocked the door, and helped her in.
The cop was still watching us, and for some reason, that pissed me off.
I nodded toward him again as I rounded the front of the car, and his response was a curt nod in return.
Michelle had gone silent beside me, but as I slid into the driver’s seat, I could see her in my peripheral with her expression tight, jaw locked, fingers clenching against her thigh.
That’s when it hit me. This wasn’t annoyance. It wasn’t discomfort.
She was scanning, watching, calculating. Like she was waiting for something to happen.
With laughter already escaping my mouth, I elbowed her lightly, trying to pull her back to me. “You afraid of cops, Mitch? It’s okay to admit it.”
