3. Mixed Signals
Chapter three
Mixed Signals
E llie
For days now, I’ve been trying to ignore it—the charged energy between me and Alexander. At first, I thought it was just me, getting too caught up in my own ridiculous fantasies. I mean, who wouldn’t have a crush on a guy like him? He’s smart, powerful, and, let’s be honest, insanely hot. But lately... it’s been more than that.
The way we’ve been working together, how close we’ve gotten—there’s something there. And it’s not just my stupid crush or those nasty sex dreams I’ve been having about him. God, the dreams. I wake up sweating, my body on fire, and then I have to see him the next day and pretend everything’s normal.
But tonight was different. Tonight, he opened up to me, told me something personal . Something about his father. He’s never done that before. And the way he looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time, it was... a lot .
I groan, rushing back to my desk after grabbing my umbrella from the break room. My thoughts are all over the place, and I’m trying to get a grip. By the time I get back, the office is dead quiet. Alexander and Lena must’ve left while I was gone. I check my phone—2% battery. Of course.
I smooth down my dress and grab my coat, mentally preparing for the storm waiting outside. It’s pouring. Like, buckets pouring. But it’s late, and I need to get home.
I say goodnight to the janitor as I make my way to the lobby, pulling my coat tighter around me. The second I step outside, the rain slams into me, and within seconds, I’m soaked. Perfect. I pull out my phone, trying to get an Uber, but there’s no signal. Figures.
I stand under the awning, staring at the rain coming down harder and harder. No choice but to walk and try to flag down a taxi. I can’t just stand here all night.
My heels sink into the wet sidewalk as I step into the downpour, trying to wave down a cab. Nothing. I keep walking, the rain seeping through my coat, drenching me to the bone. I’m about to give up when a car pulls up beside me, headlights cutting through the rain.
I step back, ready to wave them off. “No thanks, I’m fine,” I start to say, but the window rolls down, and I freeze.
Alexander. Of course, it’s him. His blue eyes meet mine through the rain, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
“Ellie, get in the car,” he says, his voice calm but commanding.
I shake my head, hugging my coat tighter around me. “I’m okay. I can—”
Before I can finish, he’s out of the car, stepping into the pouring rain without a second thought. He’s soaked in seconds, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s towering over me, raindrops streaming down his face, his suit clinging to him.
“Get in the car,” he says again, firmer this time.
I stand there like an idiot, staring up at him. The man is being rained on, for God’s sake, and here I am trying to argue. My heels are soaked through, my hair’s plastered to my face, and I’m freezing. It would be easier to just let him drive me to the subway station, right?
Without another word, he puts a hand on my back and gently guides me to the car, opening the passenger door. I slide into the seat, wincing as I feel the water from my clothes seeping into the expensive leather.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, looking down at the puddle I’m leaving on his pristine seat. “I’m getting your car all wet.”
“It’s fine,” he says, climbing into the driver’s seat and turning on the engine. He glances at me, then reaches over and flips on the seat warmers. “Why were you out in the rain?”
I pull my dead phone from my pocket, showing it to him. “Tried to get an Uber. No signal.”
He nods, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine,” I say quickly, though my teeth are literally chattering at this point.
He turns in his seat, facing me fully. “Give me your hands.”
“What?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He reaches over, takes my hands in his much larger ones, and cups them. His skin is warm—almost too warm—and the heat spreads through my fingers immediately.
“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he mutters, his grip tightening slightly. His hands practically swallow mine, and for a second, I forget how cold I am. All I can focus on is how close he is, how his warmth is spreading from my hands to my chest, to my stomach, to places I shouldn’t be thinking about right now.
I glance up at him, and suddenly, I’m aware of everything. The way his wet hair is slicked back, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his blue eyes are staring right into mine. And just like that, my whole body is buzzing with this... awareness .
I try to swallow, but my throat’s dry. “Thanks,” I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible.
He holds my hands a little longer, his gaze flicking down to where our skin touches, then back to my face. The rain is still pouring down outside, but inside the car, it’s like time has slowed. The only sound is the hum of the engine and the soft patter of raindrops on the roof.
I should pull my hands away. I should thank him and tell him I’ll be fine, that he doesn’t need to worry. But I can’t move. I can’t even think straight. Not with him this close, not with his hands wrapped around mine, not with that heat blooming in my stomach and spreading through my veins like wildfire.
His eyes drop to my lips, and my breath catches. I can’t help it. My heart is racing, and I swear to God, if he kisses me right now, I won’t stop him.
But then, just as quickly as it started, he lets go. The air between us shifts, and he leans back, turning his attention back to the road.
“Let’s get you home,” he says, his voice rough, like he’s just snapped out of something.
I blink, trying to shake off the fog in my brain. “Right. Yeah. Thanks.”
He pulls out into the street, and we drive in silence. The rain keeps pouring, but inside the car, it’s warm. Too warm. My skin is still buzzing from where he touched me, and every time I sneak a glance at him, I feel that heat flare up again.
By the time we reach the subway station, I’m not sure if I’m more relieved or disappointed. He pulls up to the curb, and for a second, we just sit there. Neither of us moves.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say quietly, reaching for the door handle.
“Ellie,” he says, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to look at him, and there’s something in his eyes—something undecided , like he’s still working through whatever just happened between us.
He doesn’t say anything else, though. Just stares at me, his jaw tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel again.
I nod, trying to smile. “Goodnight, Mr. Blackwood.”
“Goodnight,” he says, his voice soft, almost reluctant.
I step out into the rain again, feeling the cold hit me instantly. I don’t look back as I rush down the steps into the subway station, my mind still spinning from what just happened.
Because, honestly, I have no idea what did just happen. All I know is, I’m in trouble. Big, big trouble.
I barely make it down the subway steps when I hear someone calling my name. I turn around and see Alexander— running —after me through the rain.
“Ellie, wait!”
I freeze, turning to see Alexander jogging down after me, completely unfazed by the pouring rain. His hair is plastered to his head, his suit soaked through, but there’s this smile on his face, like he’s forgotten who he’s supposed to be.
“You can’t keep going out in the rain for me,” I say, trying to sound annoyed, but I can’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. He looks... different. Less CEO, more real. Like a regular guy chasing after someone.
He stops in front of me, still grinning. “Let me make it up to you. How about a hot chocolate? I know a diner nearby.”
I blink, taken off guard. Hot chocolate? From him ?
“You don’t have to,” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I know I don’t. But I want to.” He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “After keeping you so late, at least let me buy you a hot drink. Then I’ll drive you home.”
I should say no. I should absolutely say no. This is crossing lines, and we both know it. But something in me—something I’m not ready to admit to—can’t resist.
I find myself nodding. “Okay. Fine. Hot chocolate.”
His smile widens, and it’s disarming, to say the least. He holds out his hand, like he’s offering something more than just a ride. Hesitantly, I slip my hand into his, and the warmth of his palm against mine makes my stomach flip.
“Come on,” he says softly, leading me back to the car.
The diner is small, tucked away on a corner I’d never noticed before. It’s got one of those neon signs that flickers in and out, the kind of place you’d expect to find on the side of the highway at 3 a.m., not in the middle of New York City.
We park, and I glance out at the rain still coming down in sheets. “You ready?” he asks, eyes twinkling like this is some kind of adventure.
I raise an eyebrow. “To run through the rain? In these shoes? No, not really.”
He chuckles, reaching for the door handle. “Too late.”
We both fling open our doors at the same time and make a dash for it. The rain immediately soaks through my coat, but for some reason, I’m laughing. We’re both laughing. It feels... ridiculous. And a little fun. Not the version of him I’m used to at all.
We burst into the diner, dripping wet, and the warmth hits me immediately. The smell of pancakes and bacon and coffee floods my senses, and I’m instantly comforted.
Alexander shakes his head, droplets flying off his hair. He’s grinning like a kid, and it’s throwing me off completely. I’ve never seen him like this—light, easy. The grumpy, stoic guy from work has disappeared.
“You two look like you swam here,” a woman behind the counter says, smiling warmly at us.
“Close enough,” Alexander replies, leading me to a booth by the window. “Same order as always, Nancy. Two hot chocolates, extra whipped cream.”
I slide into the booth, watching him in this new element. He’s completely at ease, like this is his second home or something. The woman—Nancy—gives him a wink and walks off to make the drinks.
“You come here a lot?” I ask, still trying to wrap my head around this side of him.
He leans back in the booth, looking around the diner with something that almost resembles nostalgia. “Used to come here all the time when I was in uni. Late nights, early mornings... this place got me through a lot.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You went to school around here?”
“NYU,” he says, nodding. “Studied business and engineering. Most nights, I’d be here cramming for finals or working on projects.”
I look around the diner, trying to picture him here, younger, less polished, maybe even stressed. It’s... a strange thought. “So, this place is like home?”
He glances out the window, watching the rain for a second. “In a way. It’s the only restaurant that’s ever felt like that to me.”
There’s something in his tone, something soft that catches me off guard. It’s not the kind of thing I expect someone like him to say.
“Is that what you’re trying to build at the French Riviera?” I ask, leaning forward, genuinely curious. “Something that feels like home?”
He looks back at me, and there’s that glint in his eye again—the one that makes it hard to read him. “Let’s not talk about work,” he says, his voice low. “We’ve done enough of that tonight.”
I blush, feeling like I’ve overstepped. “Right. Sorry.”
Nancy comes over with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, topped with so much whipped cream it’s practically spilling over the sides. She sets them down, smiling at Alexander like they’ve known each other forever.
“There you go, sweetheart,” she says, patting his arm before heading back behind the counter.
I stare down at the mug, feeling the warmth seep into my fingers. The whipped cream is already melting into the chocolate, and I’m pretty sure this is going to be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
“So,” he says after a beat, lifting his mug, “what do you think?”
I take a tentative sip, the sweet, rich chocolate warming me from the inside out. I close my eyes for a second, savoring it. “Okay, this is incredible.”
“Told you,” he says, grinning over his mug. “Best hot chocolate in the city.”
I laugh softly, feeling more relaxed than I’ve been in days. This feels... nice . Just sitting here, sipping hot chocolate, talking. It’s so normal, and yet, nothing about this moment feels normal because it’s with him .
He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving mine. “So, what about you? What feels like home to you?”
The question catches me off guard. No one’s ever asked me that before. I stir my hot chocolate with my spoon, thinking about it.
“I don’t know,” I admit after a moment. “I guess... I haven’t really found that yet.”
He doesn’t say anything, just watches me, waiting.
“I mean, I had it with my mom, I guess. But after she died, it was like I’ve been trying to find something, some place, but... nothing’s felt right since then.”
He nods slowly, like he understands more than he’s saying. “It’s hard. Losing someone like that.”
I look down at my mug, the warmth suddenly feeling bittersweet. “Yeah.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just sipping our drinks, listening to the rain hammer against the windows. It’s late, and I should feel tired, but something about this moment—being here with him—keeps me wide awake.
“You know,” he says after a while, his voice soft, “you’re the first person I’ve brought here in years.”
I look up, surprised. “Really?”
He nods, his blue eyes steady on mine. “Yeah. I don’t usually... share this kind of thing.”
I don’t know what to say to that. There’s something intimate about what he just said, something that makes my heart beat a little faster. This feels like more than just a late-night hot chocolate. It feels like he’s letting me in, piece by piece.
“You’re different, Ellie,” he says quietly, his gaze holding mine.
My breath catches in my throat. Different ? What the hell does that even mean?
Before I can ask, he glances down at his watch and sighs. “It’s late. I should get you home.”
I nod, suddenly feeling flustered. “Yeah. Right.”
We finish our drinks in silence, but the air between us feels heavier now, charged with something unspoken. Something I’m not ready to admit to myself.
As we leave the diner, running back to the car in the rain, I can’t shake the feeling that this moment—this night—is going to change everything.
We get back in the car, both of us dripping wet. I shiver as I settle into the passenger seat, the leather cool against my skin. I reach for my phone to check the time, but then I remember it’s dead. Great.
Alexander notices. Of course he does.
“Give it to me,” he says, holding out his hand. “I’ve got a charging system.”
I hesitate but hand it over, feeling a little embarrassed. When he plugs it in, nothing happens.
He glances at me, then back at the charger. “It only works with the latest iPhones. What do you have? An iPhone 8?”
I nod, almost cringing. “Yeah. I got it when I moved here.”
He just shakes his head, brushing it off like it’s no big deal. “Do you know the directions? I’ll drive you home.”
I nod again, and he flips his wet hair off his forehead, then turns on the seat warmers. The heat slowly seeps into the seat, and I settle in, but his scent—it invades the car, filling the space between us. It’s warm, spicy, a little intoxicating. And for a second, all I can think about is what it would be like to bury my face in his neck and inhale him, to feel that heat pressed against me.
I blink, forcing myself to look out the window. Stop thinking about him like that, Ellie. Just stop.
We drive in silence, the only sounds are the hum of the engine and the rain hammering against the windshield. The whole car feels charged, like something’s about to happen, but neither of us says a word.
When we finally get to my neighborhood, the rain hasn’t let up. The streetlights make the water shimmer across the road, and I feel the weight of everything that’s happened tonight settling on me.
“Are you okay?” Alexander’s voice cuts through my thoughts, low and concerned.
I nod, offering him a small smile. “Yeah. Thanks for tonight. For the hot chocolate and the ride.”
He’s quiet for a moment, just watching me. “Okay,” he says softly.
And then, his hand moves, reaching toward my face. I freeze, my breath catching, but right before his fingers touch my skin, he stops, flexing his hand like he’s rethinking the whole thing. His jaw tightens, and I can see the hesitation in his eyes.
“Goodnight, Ellie,” he says, his voice rougher than before.
“Goodnight, Alexander,” I whisper, feeling the heat crawl up my cheeks despite the cold rain outside. I open the car door and step out, immediately drenched again. I rush toward the building, my heels slipping a little on the wet pavement.
As I fumble with the gate, I hear him call my name again.
“Ellie!”
I turn, and there he is, once again standing in the rain like it doesn’t even bother him. His suit is soaked through, his hair sticking to his forehead, and he’s holding my phone.
“You forgot this,” he says, walking toward me with long strides, his blue eyes looking icy against the backdrop of the storm.
“Oh,” I whisper, finally getting the gate open. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from him as he closes the distance between us. The way the rain glistens on his skin, the way his eyes darken as he reaches me, it all makes something stir deep inside me. What is this?
When he hands me the phone, our fingers brush. It’s the smallest touch, but it sends a jolt through me, blooming something warm and dangerous in my center.
His hand moves again, this time slower, more deliberate, and before I can even process it, he’s tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger, grazing my skin, and I shiver—though it has nothing to do with the rain.
“Ellie,” he growls, his voice low and rough, like he’s fighting something inside himself.
And then his lips are on mine.
I don’t have time to think, to process, because the moment his mouth touches mine, everything else disappears. He tastes like hot chocolate, rain, and something that’s entirely him . His lips are firm, demanding, and the heat that’s been simmering between us for days suddenly explodes.
His hand moves to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his body presses into mine, pinning me gently against the adjacent wall. My fingers clutch his soaked jacket, and my breathing speeds up as his tongue slips into my mouth. I suck , tasting him, and he groans, his hands tightening around me.
God, he tastes good. Devastatingly good.
His other hand slides down to my waist, pulling me against him like he can’t get close enough, and I can feel every inch of him, the hardness of his body, the heat radiating off him. We’re both soaked, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters right now except this kiss, this moment, this insane chemistry that’s been building between us.
He pushes me harder against the wall, and I kiss him back with everything I have, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. I can’t breathe, but I don’t care. I don’t need air; I just need him .
And then, a car rushes by, splashing water everywhere, and reality hits me like a bucket of ice-cold water.
What am I doing?
I pull back, panting, my lips still tingling from the kiss. “I’m—I’m sorry,” I stammer, my heart racing. “I can’t... we can’t...”
Alexander’s eyes are dark, filled with something raw, something I’ve never seen before. He takes a step back, his chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon.
“Ellie,” he starts, but I shake my head, taking another step away from him, my back pressed against the cold, wet wall.
“I need to keep things professional,” I manage to say, my voice shaky. “This can’t happen. Not like this.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes searching mine, and then he nods, his jaw tight. “Goodnight, Ellie.”
“Goodnight,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the rain.
Without another word, he turns and walks back to his car, not looking back. I watch him go, fighting the urge to call him back, to tell him that I didn’t want to stop. That I want him, more than anything.
But I don’t. I can’t. I force myself to take a deep breath and make my way inside, every step feeling heavier than the last.
As I finally make it up the stairs to my apartment, my heart is still racing, my lips still tingling from the kiss. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about how good it felt, how much I want to feel it again.
I close the door behind me, leaning against it, my fingers grazing my lips. What the hell just happened?
I’m in trouble. Big, big trouble.