“I’m not on duty, remember?” he says, voice flat but amused. “I’ve had enough water and time to be able to drive you home safely.”
I cross my arms, pretending to think it over. “Hmm. Responsibleandbossy. How lucky am I?”
He opens the passenger door with that patient look on his face that somehow manages to infuriate and melt me all at once. “Get in the car, Trouble.”
But I don’t move. The champagne in my blood makes me reckless, the night too soft, too tempting. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
His brow lifts slowly. “What do you want to do then?”
God, whatdoI want? I want to dance again. I want fries. I want to kiss his stupid, perfect face. I want to touch him until he forgets why we shouldn’t.
“I don’t know,” I say, smiling up at him.
“I don’t like that look, Trouble.”
“What look?”
“The one that means you’re about to make me regret being the responsible adult here.”
I gasp dramatically. “You really are no fun.”
His mouth curves, a half-smile that’s pure sin. “How about some water, a tea to sober you up, and an episode ofThe Rookie?”
I press a hand to my heart. “Don’t talk dirty to me, Officer.”
That earns a low laugh. He glances over as he opens the passenger door for me, eyes glinting in the low light. “If I were talking dirty, Trouble, you’d know.”
I’m too gone for a comeback, so I settle for a smirk that probably looks more like a challenge.
The drive’s quiet, just the hum of tyres on asphalt and the faint buzz of the radio. By the time we pull into his driveway, the alcohol has softened to a warm haze. The sensor light spills golden across the front of the house. Inside, the lights are low, and the TV flickers, casting faint blue shadows across the living room. The familiar couch calls to me like muscle memory. He disappears into the kitchen before reappearing with two mugs.
“Tea,” he says, handing one over.
“My hero.”
But my attention’s not on the drink. It’s on him. He sits on the other end, posture relaxed, long legs stretched out. The lamplight catches on the buttons of his shirt, the crisp white of it now a soft gold.
The episode starts, painting his face in coloured lights, and I pretend to watch, but my focus keeps slipping—to the steadyrise of his chest, the vein that runs down his forearm, along the scattered tattoos, the way his fingers tap idly against his thigh like he’s keeping time with his heartbeat. It’s maddening, this awareness. Too much and not enough all at once.
I shift, tucking one leg beneath me, fingers curling around my mug. The movement draws his attention, just a flash of his gaze, but it’s enough to make my pulse stutter. I can smell him from here—clean soap, a hint of whiskey, something just utterly him.
Somewhere between a scene I don’t register and the next breath I take, my hand shifts, resting on his arm, casually, almost accidental. He glances down, then back at the screen, but I don’t miss the small hitch in his breathing. My thumb moves slowly, tracing the rough skin near his wrist. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t stop me. The muscles beneath my touch tighten, the air thickens, and the space between us narrows in a way that feels inevitable.
Just like the other night, when he’d done the same to me. Only this time, there’s no child to stir. No reason to stop. No one else is here.
I need to move. Do something before I drown in it.
“I’m gonna… grab some water,” I mumble, though my throat feels like sandpaper for entirely different reasons. I set the mug down on the coffee table, but instead of heading for the kitchen, I turn, pacing a few slow steps in front of him. My hands find the straps of my dress, fidgeting just to have something to do. The fabric’s soft under my fingertips, sliding against my skin. He’s watching me. The weight of his stare tracks every shift, every breath.
“Olivia.” My name lands heavy, low, threaded with warning.
“Sebastian.”
He sits back, arms stretched along the couch, a picture of restraint barely holding. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Trouble.”
I turn around, smile curving. “You always say that. But you never say no.”
His jaw tightens. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
