Page 4

“Yeah.”

“I was thinking about getting her car and bringing it back here. You mind driving me?”

I glance up at the house, chewing on my bottom lip. “I should stay here with her.”

“Trust me, there is no way in hell Storm is leaving her right now. She’s in good hands. Besides, if I bring her car back, it’s one less thing for her to worry about.”

Sighing, I nod. He’s right. The last thing Ali needs to worry about right now is her car. “Okay, let me go grab her keys.”

He nods. I walk up the steps and slip inside. Ali and Storm are nowhere in sight, so I grab her keys out of her bag and go back outside as I pull my phone out to send her a text.

Me:

Hey, taking Chance to bring your car back.

Call if you need anything.

As I slip my phone back into my bag, I glance up and stop halfway down the steps as my eyes lock onto Chance leaning up against my car with his arms crossed over his chest. The rest of the world seems to fall away. His gaze never wavers, like he’s content to just stand there and watch me all damn day and the worst part is, I like it. What the hell is happening right now? It’s almost like my little sister, Ivy, did some of that witchy voodoo stuff that Aunt Dottie tried to teach us when we were younger. Of course, neither one of us took it seriously. But that’s just about the only explanation for the emotion rocking through my body right now.

Blowing out a breath, I shake it off as I start down the sidewalk toward him. The last thing I need right now is this shit. So, sure… Chance might be the sexiest man I’ve ever met, but that’s all this is—lust. As I reach the car, he doesn’t move and his body is dangerously close as I lean in to open my door. He smells like cinnamon gum, the kind that Ivy and I used to sneak when our mother wasn’t around. The scent fills the space between us and I resist the urge to close my eyes and just breathe him in, remembering a time when life wasn’t so complicated. Stilling, we lock eyes and stare at each other, the tension mounting between us.

My entire body tingles in anticipation.

“Are you going to get in?” I whisper and a smile stretches across his face. His eyes roam over me, taking his time to study me like he has every right to before pushing off the car and grazing my body. I gasp. It would be less dramatic if he electrocuted me. I watch him walk around to the passenger side and slip into the seat before taking another breath and sliding behind the wheel. He watches me as I pull away from the curb and start off toward the office, his gaze boring into the side of my head. I’m acutely aware of it—like it’s his hands following the contours of my face instead of his eyes.

I fidget in my seat, each breath I pull into my lungs ringing in my ears as I stare at the road in front of me and fight my body’s desire to glance over at him. He finally looks away and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The road flies past us but I barely even register it, all my attention focused on the man next to me and the way his eyes periodically flick in my direction. Each time, I struggle to restrain myself from meeting his gaze. When I can’t stand it any longer, I glance over at him.

“What?” I ask and he grins. His eyes sparkle with amusement and curiosity. It’s so hard to turn away from him but I somehow manage.

“Nothing. Just trying to figure you out.”

I scoff. “Good luck with that.”

He can’t ever get to know me. I’m a bag full of crazy, accentuated by secrets and pain so deep I’ll never recover. He’s better off not knowing. He continues watching me and I focus back on the road, once again struggling to not glance in his direction as I search for something to say to him to fill this space between us. Never in my adult life have I had trouble talking to men, but he does something I can’t explain. I thought I understood what desire did to my body, what chemistry was, but now I’m questioning everything.

“How long have you known Ali?” he asks, and I peek over at him before turning back to the road.

“Six years. Have you been friends with Storm long?”

He chuckles, and the sound draws my gaze back to him. “Yeah, since we were kids.”

“Cool,” I whisper, turning back to the road as my heart thumps in my chest.

“Why are you nervous, sweets?” he asks, his voice low as he reaches across the car and trails his thumb down my neck, right over my racing pulse. I draw in a ragged breath and peek over at him. My heart is pounding and my mind is going back and forth as I strain to not melt at this stranger’s touch.

“I’m not.”

Chuckling again, he shakes his head, saying nothing but his expression makes it clear he’s not buying it. I’m not all that convinced right now either because I can’t focus on anything but the heat that’s steadily climbing in the confined space of the car. My body aches, tortured with how much I want him to touch me again. I stare at the road in front of me, torn between wanting to get to the office faster and slowing down so I have a little more time with him.

Wait, what?

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and I scoff as I glance in his direction.

“How is that any of your business?”

His grin widens. “I’ll take that as a no.”

What could I say to him? It’s not like I can confirm that he’s correct or explain that the farthest guys ever get with me is friends with benefits and I haven’t been in a relationship since I was sixteen. Hell, I haven’t even told Ali or Izzy about that, so I will not tell a virtual stranger.