“No.” I swallow, twiddling the strap on my bag. “But I like him.” I hold my breath, waiting for his response, shocked at my own admission.
Angelos’ brow furrows. “What about Dad?”
I close my eyes for a brief moment. The mention of Magnus sends a frigid chill through my bloodstream. “I’m never getting back with him. I thought you knew that.”
Angelos shrugs as we stand outside his room. “I thought when he got out we’d be a family again.”
“That’s never going to happen.” I grit my teeth, wishing I’d been truthful with Angelos from the start, but I never wanted him to think his father was a piece of scum who deserved to be in prison. Instead, I told him he was set up, hailed him a hero. So many lies have been told that I’m stuck in a tangled web of deceit and deception and I can’t seem to find a way out.
“Dad won’t be happy. Does he know?”
“I haven’t spoken to your dad in years.”
“Maybe you can send him a letter.”
I give him a fake smile, words clogging up my throat. Those bloody letters have been the bane of my existence. I should have just let Angelos know when he was little that it wasn’t his real father, instead of sending him fake letters at birthdays and Christmas because I never wanted my son tofeel unloved by a father like I was. “Yes, I’ll do that.” I give him a hug. “Want me to tuck you in?”
“Mum. That’s so cringe. Nobody has their mum in the rooms.”
“Okay. I’ll leave you to it. Love you.”
“Love you.”
I rub at the ache in my chest as I walk past the check-in and nod to the house leader. I don’t know what’s going to happen or how we’re gonna work this out, but all I know is that right now, the only place I want to be is in Dan’s arms.
My steps quicken as I rush back to the car, holding my cardigan closed over my breasts to block out the chill. Cool air nips at my face, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my heart. Leaving Angelos always does this to me. Thunder sounds in the distance, and my heart thumps, as if keeping pace with the building storm. I run the last few steps before the rain starts.
A shiver goes through me as I get in the car just as the rain patters against the window. The smell of the leather interior and Dan’s aftershave surrounds me, grounding me, even as my emotions whirl like a brewing storm in my head.
“Everything all right?” Dan extends a hand, squeezing my shoulder, his touch warm and steady. “You cold?” He turns the heat up in the car and sets the wipers going.
“I hate leaving him.” My voice cracks, and I swallow, pushing down my swelling emotions. I hold my hands against the blowers.
Dan takes one of my hands in his and brings it to his lips, his mouth lingering against my knuckles with the softest brush of warmth that sends a shudder down my spine. “We’ll come back Friday and pick him up after school.”
I nod and smile, our eyes locked for a beat too long. The air shifts, thick and heavy, full of unspoken words I’m not ready to say. “We need to get home before the storm starts.”
“I think it’s already started.” Dan turns the ignition, his gaze flicking to my lips as if he’s fighting the same pull I am.
He drives out of the school grounds, his hand gripping the wheel, ink rippling on his forearm as he changes gears. It’s enough to have me salivating between my thighs.
As if seeing him with our son tonight wasn’t enough to make my ovaries pop, then this’ll do it. I know it’s reckless and maybe it’s wrong, but right now, logic doesn’t stand a chance against this need. I’m probably gonna be pregnant before the week’s out. I don’t know how much longer I can resist him or why I even need to resist him. It’s clear my body craves this. I should just give in to the temptation.
We drive down the motorway, the rain coming down hard and the wipers on full. Lightning flashes, zigzagging across the night’s sky. Each crack of thunder vibrates through me, amplifying the pounding in my chest.
“Pull over.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve driven in worse.” Dan reaches over the centre console and holds my hand. His thumb strokes slow circles against my palm, soothing yet igniting all at once. “I won’t go above fifty.”
“It’s not the weather.” I move his hand to my thigh, my skin burning beneath his touch. My breath comes out in short bursts. I slide his hand under my dress, inching farther up my thigh until he reaches the apex. I’m so turned on, it’s unbearable, a tension coiled so tight inside me, it’s about to snap.
Dan’s jaw slackens. He glances sideways. “Really?”
I gulp and nod. No more overthinking or hesitating. “Pull over onto the hard shoulder.”
“Fuck.” He swerves into the slow lane, the car slows down as he slips onto the hard shoulder, flashing his hazards.
As he pulls the handbrake, I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb onto his lap, straddling him like I belong there, becausemaybe I do. The steering wheel digs into my back, but I don’t care.
