Zoey and I embrace. Grace pulls her toward the cars. Doors slam. The cars drive off.
He pulls open the passenger door.
"Get in."
So bossy. But I’m not going to argue. Not when I'm this drunk. Not when he waited until every one of my friends was safely in their car first.
He shuts the door, gets inside the driver’s seat, and eases the car forward.
I yawn, then burrow into the soft leather seat and take in his profile.
In the dim illumination from the streetlights, he looks imposing. Broad shoulders, controlled posture, that calm, watchful expression that always makes people step aside without realizing why.
"Thanks for letting me get off dinner service early.” I yawn again.
"It was your bachelorette evening. I wasn’t going to keep you back." He hands me a bottle of water without looking away from the road.
I accept it and chug down half of its contents before placing it back.
"Are your brothers throwing you a bachelor party?"
He scoffs.
"Not your style?"
"We’re both going to be away on the day of the wedding. I don’t want to risk it further by being away longer than necessary."
I understand his concern. When you’re defending your Michelin stars and worried about when the Michelin inspectors are going to drop in unannounced, you make sure you’re always there to quality-control the food.
It also reminds me that this is not a real wedding. Even though the dress fitting and my friends’ excitement has made it feel like it is.
A tight ball of disappointment squeezes my chest. I shouldn’t feel this sense of being let down, but somehow, I do feel sad.
I turn to face forward and pretend to close my eyes.
He must sense my retreat, for I sense him scan my features. "You okay?"
"Mm-hmm."
We continue driving through the silent roads. At some point, I must doze off. When I open my eyes, it’s to find we’re parked in front of my apartment block.
I open my eyes to find him staring at me.
I flush. "Did you watch me while I was sleeping?"
"You looked peaceful; I didn’t want to wake you up." He makes no move to get out of the car.
I want to look away, but my gaze is caught with his. The car suddenlyfeels very small. The air between us grows so thick; I feel like I can’t breathe. My stomach flutters.
He scans my features in a leisurely manner and little pinpricks of sensation zip under my skin.
"You’re beautiful, Ember."
His throat moves as he swallows.
His words are so sincere. It amps up the attraction between us. My pulse rate kicks up. He doesn’t look away. And that only turns the pinpricks of sensation into slow, rolling waves of lust. It’s so intense, I’m unable to hold his gaze anymore.
"At the end of a long day, and after going out with my girlfriends and consuming enough alcohol that I’ll be hungover tomorrow?" I laugh in an attempt to lighten the air.
