He taps lightly on the doorframe.“Would you like me to take the old car now?”
“Sure,” I say, stepping out and heading inside to grab my keys.
He hands me an envelope of cash and says it’s for the junk value, and before I can form a single coherent protest, he’s walking away and hoisting my old car onto the truck like this is just another day.
I stand on the curb, squinting into the daylight, still clutching the new key in one hand and the envelope in the other.
What just happened?
No, seriously.What the hell just happened?
I head back inside, shutting the door behind me, and head straight for the coffee machine.I need caffeine immediately.
As I wait for it to brew, my thoughts spin as I consider calling Brant, but I can’t.I don’t even have his number.
That part actually makes me laugh.
We’ve exchanged kisses—almost way more than that—and somehow, we’ve never swapped numbers.
I’m going to have to explain this to Dad, eventually.Not today, though.Thank God, I’m on nights, so I’ll miss his early evening routine and dodge the twenty-questions...but still.
Do I lie?Say I bought it myself?That’ll invite a whole other line of interrogation I’m not ready for.Say Brant bought it?That’s even worse.Dad would probably stage an intervention.
Maybe I can say I’m leasing it?That’s realistic and doesn’t involve admitting a man who’s mentoring me and who I’ve kissed just gifted me a car.
With my coffee in hand, I finally feel like I can breathe.I make some eggs and toast, pull out my gym bag, and try to talk myself down from whatever emotional cliff I’ve climbed onto.What other ways could I reach Brant?
Scarlet?But then she would ask questions, so I throw that out of the window, and with no other ideas, I decide to talk to him tonight.For now, I’ll go for a walk, meal prep, and maybe even call Mom before heading in for tonight’s shift.
Of course, the tension at work with Dad is still lingering in my mind.That hasn’t gone away, but I’m not gonna lie, being around Brant makes being home more tolerable.
When I get to work later that night, I spot Brant's car already parked, gleaming under the lot lights.I pull in next to him, turn off the engine, and sit for a minute to gather my thoughts.
What’s going to happen now?
We said we’re just a secret fling, but we’ve kissed twice.
Is that part of the rules now?
Inside, the hospital phones ring, nurses chat, wheels squeaking on polished floors.I’m early, so I make my way through the corridors, visiting the little boy who’s recovering well, and when I reach Brant’s office, my stomach flips.
I don’t knock.I step in, push the door closed behind me, and cross the room without hesitation.My gaze finds his, and that smirk, the one that undid me last time, flickers at the corner of his mouth.
I know this is stupid.We agreed to keep things separate.But the second I saw him standing there, all I could think about was last night.The way his hands felt on my skin.The way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
And suddenly, the risk doesn’t feel so big.Just one kiss, a quick one, before the shift starts, and we have to pretend there’s nothing between us.
I lean in, ready to kiss him, because screw it, I want to.
But just as my hand brushes the edge of his desk—
A knock rattles the door behind me.
My stomach drops.Shit, shit, shit.
His expression hardens in an instant, like stone cracking under pressure.My heart sinks, and I take a step back.
“Regan.”
