“That’s a fair observation,” he replied, amusement flickering in his pale blue eyes, and I had the absurd thought that if I stared at them for too long, I might forget where I ended and he began. They were far too captivating.
The car continued forward in steady silence, the city thinning slightly around us, and I glanced out the window. That’s when I noticed a row of shops ahead, cafés and small storefronts clustered together. The people drifting in and out with paper cups in hand. But what I saw more was an opportunity.
“If this is strictly business, then you won’t mind pulling over,” I said evenly, turning back to him as his gaze flicked to me, alert now.
“For what purpose?” he asked, clearly surprised.
“I haven’t had my morning coffee yet or breakfast for that matter, and well… I don’t function particularly well without either,” I said bluntly.
“That sounds like a personal inconvenience indeed,” he teased, visibly relaxing once he realized my rebellionstemmed from nothing more sinister than hunger and caffeine deprivation.
“It is,” I agreed.
“Which I can remedy. There’s a café coming up,” I informed him, nodding to the side of the road as we were currently stopped in traffic.
“You wish to stop?” he asked, frowning this time.
“I thought you said I wasn’t a prisoner?” I stated, testing him now, despite the fact that he hadn’t actually ever said this. Which was why I was only half surprised when he replied,
“You are not.”
Something eased in my chest at that, because I had feared this very thing from the start. Which now had me questioning if this arrangement between us wasn’t about the campaign after all.
Well, a girl could hope.
“Good,” I said lightly, though my pulse had begun to thud in my ears.
“Then, let me out here. I’ll grab a coffee, and you can just text me the address of your office, so I can meet you there,” I said, trying to back him into a corner, and he knew it. Because the faintest narrowing of his eyes told me he understood exactly what I was doing.
Testing him.
Testing the cage, Bo insisted was already closing in around me.
Outside, the café grew closer, pedestrians visible through the glass windows, safe and ordinary and human. A world I wanted to cling to and be a part of once more.
“So, what is it to be? Am I your prisoner or not?” I finished calmly, even as every instinct screamed at me not to push him further. And for the first time since I had known him, something shifted across his face that did not resemble complete control.
It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but I saw it. A tightening at the edge of his jaw, a flicker of calculation behind his eyes as though he were weighing outcomes I could not see. He did not like this, I realized. Not because of the coffee. Because of what it represented.
“We have not far to travel,” he said at last, his tone smooth but edged with quiet restraint.
“There will be coffee where you are going. Anything you desire, in fact.”
I swallowed hard at that and pointed out,
“That’s not the point,” My fingers drifted unconsciously to the Band-Aid stuck to my palm, worrying at the edge of it with my thumb.
His gaze dropped briefly, tracking the movement, taking note of it.
“No?” he asked, pushingmethis time.
The car slowed as we reached a red light. Through the window, the café came fully into view now, its windows misted with warmth, people moving inside with easy familiarity. Cups cradled between hands, laughter rising in soft bursts each time the door opened. Normal. Busy. Public.
My pulse began to climb.
“If this is strictly professional, then stepping out of the car for coffee shouldn’t be an issue,” I said evenly, keeping my voice measured despite the rush of adrenaline beneath it. My breath held for long heartbeats until his large shoulders dropped a fraction as a sigh escaped him.
“You are permitted to leave the car,” he replied at long last, but something about it felt off enough for me to push,
