Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
Jayne
“Oh, shit!” The words tumble out before I can stop them.
The elevator is pitch black and I’m pressed against a strong, solid body.
Very solid.
All muscle and strength and heat.
He’s really warm and he works out, no doubt about that.
“It’s all right.” His voice is steady as he closes an arm around me. “I’ve got you. We’re okay.”
“What’s going on?” I whisper nervously, my fingers digging into his shirt before I can stop them.
“I don’t know yet.” He shifts a little but no emergency lights have come on, and it’s literally pitch black in here.
Suddenly there’s a flicker and some weird yellow lights come on—and promptly go out again.
“Are we stuck?” I ask as I realize I have a death grip on his T-shirt and can’t seem to let go.
“I’m not sure,” he says gently. “But I don’t think we’re moving. If you’re okay on your own for a second, I can try to get to the emergency button.”
“Oh. Right.” I manage to release his shirt and press my back against the wall since I still can’t see anything.
He pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight feature, illuminating the panel with all the buttons. One of them clearly says “alarm” and he pushes it.
Nothing happens.
“Isn’t it supposed to make noise?” I ask.
“I don’t know—I’ve never pushed one before.”
There’s a beat of silence so he presses it a few more times.
“This day just keeps getting better,” I mutter.
“Tell me about it.” He uses his phone flashlight to check out the elevator and there’s nothing else. “No phone in here, and the ceiling is solid, so I don’t think there’s a way to climb out.”
“Not that I could climb up there,” I say dryly.
He chuckles. “I could lift you if there was a way, but it looks like we’re stuck here.”
I sigh.
From my perspective, assuming we don’t crash to our deaths, sitting here in this quiet elevator with a cute guy is better than spending the afternoon doing what I usually do—reading or studying.
I enjoy reading, and I’m passionate about my library studies, but this is the closest I’ve come to having an adventure since I graduated from NYU.
“What do we do now?” I ask finally.
“Let’s see if I have cell service.”
I almost ask him not to but that would be ridiculous, so I wait as he stares at the screen. “Nothing. What about you?”
I dig my own phone out and shake my head.
No signal.
“Nothing,” I say, waffling between disappointment and relief.
How ridiculous am I being? I’m behaving like I’ve never seen a cute guy before.
It’s just that it’s been a while. I don’t get out much, especially now that we moved to a city where I don’t know a soul outside my own house.
“Well, I guess we just wait.” He looks around. “The floor is probably filthy but I’m not sure we’ll want to stand the whole time either.”
I look down skeptically. The floor is undoubtedly a mess so I’m happy to stand for now.
“Let’s see how long it takes. Maybe help is already on the way.”
He nods. Then there’s a beat of silence before he says, “So, did you say you just moved here as well?”
“Yes. From New York.”
“What brought you down to Atlanta?”
“My dad’s job. We moved as a family. My dad, stepmom, and little sister.”
“But you’re still in school, right?”
“Like I said, I’m starting my final year of a two-year master’s degree so I’m almost done. And it’s an online program so moving didn’t matter.”
“Then what?”
“Then, hopefully, I’ll get a job and move out.”
“Will you go back to New York?”
“I don’t think so,” I say carefully. “It’s really expensive to live there so it’s going to depend on what job I get, how much they offer. You know how it is. I’m not sure I could afford to live in Manhattan, and I have no interest living in a small town.”
“I hear that.”
“Although, if you’re new to Peachtree Heights, you’ll find it has quite the small-town vibe.
Vendors on Main Street doing special sidewalk sales.
Bake sales, car washes for charity—I thought Atlanta was this huge city.
The capital of the South, not just Georgia, but here in Peachtree Heights, it doesn’t feel like it. ”
“Interesting,” he says. “I’ve only ever lived in big cities like L.A., so this should be different for me.”
“Well, if you like being thirty miles from a big city but living a quieter life in the suburbs, you’ll like it here. If not, it could be a problem because traffic in and out of downtown is hellacious.”
“Yeah, I’ve experienced some of that already. I drove in from L.A. and the longest part of the drive was once I got to some place called McDonough.”
I laugh. “I haven’t lived here long, just over a month, and I’ve already experienced 675 in McDonough.
We drove through at eleven o’clock at night and it was backed up for miles.
One of my little sister’s teachers lives out that way and she told us that she leaves at five am every morning with the hope she gets here on time. ”
“That sounds like hell,” he murmurs.
“I wouldn’t want to live that far from my job.”
“Me either. Driving in traffic is a pain in the ass.”
“Right? And I don’t even drive yet.”
“How come?” He sounds more curious than anything else.
“I went to college in Manhattan—not like I needed a car there. And there was a possibility I might stay so it just didn’t seem like a priority to learn.
Then this situation came up for my dad, and since he’s paying for my degree, and there was an online option, it just seemed easier to move with the family. ”
“But you’re going to actually learn, right? I mean, no way you can get around the suburbs without a car. Outside of downtown, there doesn’t seem to be much public transportation.”
“There isn’t. And we don’t even have buses here in Peachtree Heights. That’s one of many reasons I made the decision to come here today and get my permit.”
I don’t know why I’m opening up to this stranger but there’s something safe and comforting about him—like I know I can trust him.
It’s not logical, nothing more than a gut feeling I can’t explain, but I have confidence that Bodi isn’t going to give away my secrets.
I’m probably never going to see him again anyway.
“Will your dad teach you?”
“God forbid.” I can’t help but laugh just picturing myself in a car with my father, who has zero patience for anything. “He’s not the patient type. One mistake and that would be the end of it. Besides, he’s so busy with his wife, my sister, and work, he never pays attention to me. No one does.”
There’s a beat of silence before, “I’m paying attention to you.”
“Well, you’re kind of stuck here. It’s not like you have a choice.” I don’t mean to sound self-deprecating but the words tumble out anyway.
“I was paying attention before the elevator got stuck.”
It’s true, he was. I noticed him checking me out, it just didn’t register because…hot guys rarely look at anything beyond my big boobs. Guys usually look right through me once they get to my face. The glasses. The untamable hair. Not to mention the demure and boring package I present.
“Why?” I blurt, opting for honesty, even if it comes out a little more bluntly than it should have.
He chuckles. “I don’t know. Pretty girl who seems a little sassy. Single, red-blooded male who likes pretty girls… I mean, it’s not a marriage proposal or anything, but I was definitely paying attention after you nearly knocked me over.”
I snort. “I would hardly call that little bump knocking you over.”
“Close enough.”
A soft laugh escapes me.
He’s a nice guy, even if he’s just trying to get in my pants, which would be quite a feat in this elevator considering how dirty it is.
“Well, I do apologize for that.”
The elevator lurches, throwing me against him again. And this time I have my wits about me enough to get a whiff of his aftershave—something woodsy and warm. To appreciate the strength as he wraps an arm around me again.
“Looks like we’re moving,” he says softly, just as the doors slide open.