I watch her, and get the sense she’s thankful she has to keep her eyes on the road.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know, Em.”
This is the part where I should apologize for springing that not-so-little confession on her. But something about the way she’s slumped as she drives, and the exhaustion she’s experiencing from overthinking for the past hour, has me keeping my mouth shut and saving it for another time.
The ride is silent. Every red light we sit at makes the tension grow. This car is far too small for this much pressure to build.
She takes a turn in the opposite direction of my apartment, and that’s when I realize she has no clue where I live. I blanked on giving her directions, too preoccupied with her simply being here.
“I actually...” I throw my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m that way.”
“Okay.”
Reese continues to drive without looking for a place to turn around. Without even trying to.
I’m a smart enough man not to question her. Not tonight. She’s equal parts confident and uneasy as she continues on, and I can’t quite put my finger on what’s going on. She takes a few more turns, the route an ingrained path for her, until finally, she pulls up in front of a building.
Herbuilding.
The valet pops out to park her car for her, but before he gets to the door, I turn to her.
“Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you said you were taking me home?”
“I am. I just didn’t say when.”
She passes off her keys to the valet, and heads to the main entrance of the building, expecting me to follow.
And like a fucking dog, I do.
I quickly catch up to her, and together, we cross the lobby to the same elevator where I kissed her for the first time. Standingnext to each other inside, we don’t speak. The only sound is the instrumental music playing over the speakers.
It’s soft and calming, vastly contradictory to the war raging inside of me. The confusion. The want. The hope that if I’m not going home just yet, that’ll give us time to talk. Time for me to apologize.
The music doesn’t match up with the woman next to me either. She’s practically rattling with nerves, and they only seem to grow the higher we climb. More than anything else, that’s what has my attention.
“Reese, if you don’t want me to come up, I don’t have to.”
“It’s not that. It’s just...” She steels her spine as the elevator stops moving. “I’ll explain inside.”
She exhales a long breath as the doors open, then steps off into her condo, heading farther into the entryway. I take one single step into her place, but pause there, just on the other side of elevator doors, because I’m not actually convinced she wants me to be here.
The elevator closes behind me, leaving us alone. And finally, Reese turns to look at me.
“So, this is my condo.” She sweeps her arms out, and her voice is laced with faux confidence.
I quickly glance around. It looks exactly as I would expect her place to be. Expensive. Luxurious. And it practically screams her name with the neutral color palette.
“It’s beautiful.”
The statement is hardly out of my mouth before she starts trying to explain herself. “I know it’s indulgent and a bit over the top, but—”
“I like that you like nice things, Reese.” Her blue eyes meet mine, this fear of being judged so clear in her expression. “And I like that you like me.”
She sighs, her shoulders dropping. “I do like you, Emmett.”
“I know you do.”
