Chapter Ten #2
A low sigh escapes me. There are so many things I could say to him. Witty things. Humorous responses. Hell, I could just tell him to punch in Lacey’s address and take me home and something tells me he wouldn’t argue or press the issue, and he’d do it. No questions asked.
Just like he said if I ever needed a ride home from a bar or club, he’d come get me, no questions asked. And then he put his number in my phone without asking. He just grabbed it and did it.
Those things should bother me, but… they don’t.
Not in the way they should, anyway. One word falls out of my mouth, and I know the moment I say it, I’m exposing myself, and as much as I hate it, my curiosity outweighs my self preservation.
“Why?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. “Why the hell are you doing this?”
There’s a strange sort of silence between us. It’s not uncomfortable or tense, but it’s charged, nonetheless. AJ’s gaze dips from my eyes to my mouth, where it hovers for just a second.
Almost like he’s thinking about kissing me or something, but I know that’s just wishful thinking.
Aside from a few comments, he hasn’t really given me any indication he’s into me.
Or guys, in general. I could be way off base.
I could be spiraling and looking for things that clearly aren’t there because I am indeed a hot mess, and need a distraction from all the chaos right now.
And that’s when I realize the space between us has closed and his thigh is brushing against mine.
I have the strangest impulse to set my hand on his, but I don’t.
I don’t want to make things weird, and right now with the way he’s looking at me, the scent of his smokey-cedar cologne filling my lungs, things are definitely weird.
“Maybe I want to,” he says carefully, his gaze drifting back to mine. “Maybe I like helping people.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Is that your kink? Helping people?”
I bite my lip as his lips turn up in the corner like he wants to smile but thinks better of it.
“No,” he says carefully as he pulls up the screen for his GPS.
And just like that, the tension disappears and his expression shifts, and it’s like he’s someone else.
He grins and gestures to the GPS. “Where to, Princess?”
I cross my arms and scoff at him.
“I am not—”
“You are my passenger, in my truck, are you not?” He smirks.
“Yes, but—”
“Then you’re my passenger Princess for the evening, Princess. So deal with it.”
His tone is some mix of dark, raspy, and sarcastic.
It’s weirdly sexy, if sarcasm laced with cockiness is a kink.
Maybe it is, I don’t fucking know. Apparently humiliation is, according to AJ.
I don’t know who the hell would find dying of embarrassment sexy, but my mother always said there’s a lid for every pot, so I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised.
AJ’s voice, juxtaposed with his inviting gaze, his stupid fucking biceps that are demanding to be stared at in that tiny, tight-fitting black shirt he’s wearing…
Fucking hell, AJ is irritatingly hot and it’s pissing me off.
And maybe turning me on a little, too, which only makes me feel more agitated.
I don’t know what it is about the man that makes me feel this way, but I can’t help it.
I’m not the kind of person who likes to argue.
I avoid conflict because the thought of it makes me anxious and the last thing I want is someone to be mad at me or worse—make my life a living hell because I pissed them off.
But Mr. Hot Stuff seems to know just what buttons to press to get me all hot and bothered in more ways than one.
“Now, be a good boy and put in the address of your current digs and stop fucking pouting.”
His words only make me want to pout harder, as if that’s a thing.
I can’t explain it, but it’s like he has this way of reaching inside of me and pulling out someone else. Someone I barely know.
Maybe I’m having a latent reaction to the trauma of what happened, or something. Lacey did say sometimes people experience things after the initial event, and sometimes it can pop up even years later.
Or maybe I’m just finally cracking from all the pressure and stress, and I’m sliding into madness.
I grind my jaw, my body heating like a volcano both from the inside and from the onslaught of heat coming off of the vents aimed directly at me.
I narrow my gaze at home, huffing out an aggravated sound, and I swear, it only makes him look more smug.
And hot.
Who does he think he is, anyway? My knight in fireproof armor who looks hot as hell in grey sweatpants?
I mean, that doesn’t exactly sound like a bad deal, but…
Focus, Nate!
AJ has the audacity to lick his lips slowly and the sight alone makes a fresh bout of heat flood my face.
I don’t know if it’s the fact my breakup is still fresh, or that I haven’t had sex in months, or if it’s just that I’m a glutton for punishment, but as his gaze drifts over me and I cross my arms. the words come out without thinking about them.
I never talk back to anyone. Ever. But the need to tell AJ off is so prevalent it’s hard to ignore and I feel like if I don’t give him a piece of my mind right now, I am going to explode in more ways than one.
“You always just tell people to do shit and they listen?” I bite as I enter Lacey’s address into the GPS. I feel his gaze on me, hot like fire as I do so. My cheeks flush, and I can’t help it.
I’m not doing it because he asked me to. I need to go home. He knows that. I know that, but still, something about this moment feels different. Like earlier, when I’d found out I was apparently starting my job today.
It’s like he’s trying to instigate me or something, even though I know that doesn’t make any sense at all. I feel like I’m losing my damn mind.
He lets out a low sigh as he answers me, that raspy, deep voice tinged with so much sex appeal, I think half the fires this guy puts out must be started by the heat radiating off of him like a furnace.
“Most of the time,” he says, putting the truck in gear, breaking my gaze and focusing on the road. A heavy silence blooms between us as the music drones on, and the air between us shifts. Suddenly I feel like an asshole as I notice the way he stares at the road, the way his jaw sets.
AJ is confusing. One minute he’s candid, genuine, and the next he’s like a fucking grizzly bear which isn’t all that unattractive, either.
We don’t speak the rest of the way to Lacey’s, nor does he look at me.
I think I pissed him off.
Great. Good job, Nate.
I lean back in the seat and let out a deep sigh of defeat.
See, this is why I don’t say shit to people. Why it’s so much better to keep my mouth shut.
The truck slows just outside Lacey’s apartment complex, and I am both thankful and disappointed because as badly as I want to leave… I don’t want to leave with this feeling in my chest, or this air of animosity between us. Not after all he’s done for me, and I don’t just mean the job.
“I’m sorry,” I say carefully, and AJ pulls the car up to the curb and puts it in park. Right outside Lacey’s building.
But he doesn’t move, and neither do I.
He just stares at the darkness ahead, through the window.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you, I just—”
“No,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”
AJ leans back against the seat, flashing his dark eyes at me, and for a moment, they look softer. Sad, almost.
Which makes me feel like shit because I think I hurt his feelings.
He doesn’t answer me. Instead he lets out a low breath. I count six seconds.
“You do that a lot,” I say stupidly, unbuckling my seatbelt, but still I make no move to leave.
It’s like the space between us is magnetized.
Like instead of needing to repel, I need to be closer.
As close as I can get to him. I scoot towards him just an inch without thinking and notice the way his body relaxes.
I almost feel a spark of relief; like it’s because of me, even though it’s probably not me.
He’s probably just relieved he thinks I’m leaving because I’m an asshole and he’s regretting ever saving my ass.
I know I would if I were him.
“What?” he says, his voice low, deep. My shoulders fall as I chew my lip, avoiding his gaze because right now the way he’s looking at me makes my stomach flip, and at this proximity I can smell his cologne, mixed with sweat and all I want to do is breathe it into my lungs like air.
“You count your breaths,” I say softly.
I shouldn’t press him. I should get out of this car, say thanks for the job, the ride, and never speak to him again because I know nothing good can come from it. I’m Mister Unlucky, after all. If I stay here, I’ll say something I’ll regret and cause more problems.
AJ doesn’t say anything, and I sigh, knowing I should probably go. But as I move to open my door, his voice echoes in the truck.
“No.”