Riya blinked. She hadn’t expected the offer. “You do have a license, right? No outstanding warrants or anything?”
“What? No. What do you take me for? Actually, don’t answer that. But yes, I do have a license. I wouldn’t put you in danger.”
Riya sighed. She should refuse. Keep the literal and figurative distance she’d been trying to maintain. But exhaustion argued otherwise.
So she followed him across the near-empty lot, until Kian stopped.
Not in front of a motorcycle or flashy muscle car. Just an old red Honda Accord. Clean, well kept. Not a single visible dent.
For some reason, that threw her.
They barely knew each other. She’d cursed Kian, altered his life in a way neither of them fully understood. And yet—beyond that? She knew almost nothing.
“After you,” Kian said, holding the passenger door open for her.
Riya slid in.
They drove along winding roads, the orange light of the setting sun slicing through the trees, casting soft, shifting shadows across the dashboard. Kian had connected his phone to the stereo, and music filled the car, a dreamy, hazy sound wrapping around them like a favorite blanket.
She caught herself nodding to the rhythm—then caught herself.
“What band is this?”
Kian grew animated. “The Marías. I’ve got their latest album on repeat. María’s vocals are likevelvet, and their guitarist—man, the way he layers those melty, psychedelic guitar riffs—”
He broke off, smiling sheepishly. “What about you? What kind of music do you listen to?”
Riya shrugged. “Anything, really. I don’t have a strong preference.”
“Aw, come on. Everyone’s got a preference.”
She shifted uncomfortably, then relented with a sigh. “I like songs with orchestral instruments. Violins. Piano. And... unique voices, I guess.” She didn’t admit the music he was playing now wasn’t so bad, either.
“For sure.” Kian’s eyes gleamed. “I love how musicreachespeople, you know? You can be in the worst mood ever, but then you hear the right song, and suddenly it’s like the world understands you. Bringing out emotions youdidn’t even know you had. Kind of like—” He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Likemagic, in a way.”
The word sent a small jolt through her. She’d never thought about magic like that before. Never as something... beautiful.
“Out of curiosity,” she said, changing the subject before it could settle, “how have you been feeling lately, since... everything?”
Kian’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess I’ve been having more trouble sleeping lately. I keep—” He cleared his throat, shifting. The glow from the dashboard highlighted the pink creeping up his face. “I keep thinking about you? Wondering what you’re up to, what you’re thinking. Imagining entire scenarios in my head.”
Briefly, Riya thought her cheeks felt warm. She cleared her throat.
“So, no other obvious changes?”
“Not really. Oh!” Kian brightened. “While I was waiting earlier, I made a list. Questions I wanted to ask you.”
“Questions?”
“To get to know you,” he said. “I was thinking about what you said—how we barely know each other. But I want to know the real you.”
“Whatkindof questions?”
“Favorite color. Favorite animal. If you could meet anyone, dead or alive. Political issues you care about. It says a lot about a person, you know?”
“I’m not a psych study.”
“I know,” he replied. “I just want to know things to add to the stuff I already know about you. Stuff that isn’t influenced by any curse.”
