“Then it shouldn’t be anything you aren’t already used to.” Suddenly I hear the click of his car door, and he’s out of his seat, rounding the front of the car and opening the passenger door for me. He’s wearing scrubs a shade lighter than his eyes—no glasses today—but those scrubs expertly mold to his muscular body. His dark hair is still damp from his shower, brushed back, revealing more of his handsome, chiseled features.
The morning light of the fall sun hits him just right, and in this moment, he’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen. How terribly unfortunate that is. My knees are about to buckle at the damn sight of him. Is this what swooning feels like? Couldn’t he be as ugly as his attitude?
I stare at him, wary, but also unable to look away. My heart skips a beat.
“Did you take out a squirrel or a cat when you dropped off Stella? Is that why you’re suddenly in a good mood and being nice to me?”
He gives me a don’t be ridiculous look as he motions once again for me to get in his car.
“I thought you said with any luck we wouldn’t have to see each other.”
“And with any luck, after this we won’t. But you’re making my daughter happy by doing something special for her, so the least I can do is drive you to work.”
I don’t budge, and he growls, at the end of his patience with me.
“Fine, consider it payback for doing a very large favor to me by spending two afternoons a week with Stella. Now come on, before we’re both late.”
“Fine. But this is a one-time thing. Don’t start getting your hopes up that you’ll have the pleasure of my company every morning.”
He smirks, his eyes sparkling. “Shame. How will I ever live without that? Now move your ass.”
I hop in the car, place my bag and purse on my lap, my scarf on the seat beside me, and he shuts the door behind me. The interior is smooth and dark and smells like him. Like man and spice and earth and sandalwood. I take a deep inhale just as he gets back in, and I can only hope he didn’t catch me doing it.
“I’m shocked you’re doing this for me. I feel like I should check your temperature, but you’re the doctor here. I already know it’s out of your way toward the highway, and you’re not known for being all that chivalrous.”
Again with that chuckle, though this time he rubs at his bottom lip as if he’s trying to hide his amusement. “I was raised by a mother who absolutely believes in chivalry and manners. She would have been appalled if I hadn’t stopped. Especially with you looking as upset as you were.”
He pulls away from the curb, heading toward the end of our street. “I was raised by a mother who believed my presence in her life to be superfluous and of no value until the day I married David. Then I had value, literally it seems. I’d take your mother over mine any day.”
“Is that what has you frowning today? It’s not a look I’ve seen on you often.”
“I frown plenty.”
“No. You’re the happiest person I’ve ever met—or maybe friendliest is more accurate. However that works, nothing seems to hold you down for long. What happened with your family this morning to make you look so sad?”
I stare into his profile. “Suddenly you want to get to know me?”
We come to a stoplight in town, and he shifts to face me as we wait for it to turn green. His eyes bore into mine. “You haven’t figured it out yet? Why I don’t want to do that?”
“Because you’re attracted to me, and you don’t want to be?”
“Because I’m drawn to you, and I don’t want to be.”
He starts off again, the light having turned green, and we fall into silence. I fumble for a follow-up but come up with nothing. He’s drawn to me, and I feel that. I see it. We have so much chemistry we could blow up a lab. But at the heart of it, he doesn’t want to be. I tip my head down to hide how much that bothers me when it shouldn’t.
I don’t want to be drawn to him either.
But my reasons and his feel very different. His seem more like a natural extension of himself. Something he’d never consider changing. Not for anyone. Mine waver, fluctuate, and if something genuine came along, despite my recent circumstances, I’d jump at it. Life’s too short not to.
To him, that notion is abhorrent.
So instead, I just stare straight ahead, sitting stiffly, breathing his scent in and out as the car drives me to work. But just as we’re two blocks from the school, I feel his eyes on me. More alive than ever as their penetrative heat clings to the side of my face, imploring me to react. To look back at him.
And I do. So very helpless to resist where he’s concerned.
David never looked at me the way Landon is looking at me now.
It’s possessive and mad, feral and agitated. But it’s also tender. Like he has to look at me, absorb everything about me so he can keep it for himself. Cherish and hold onto it because we both know there will never be anything else between us. All this fire and passion and ache have no home. No outlet.
Both of us such damaged souls, you’d think we’d be that for each other, but no. That seems like such an impossibility. More heartache in the making.
Suddenly something catches his attention while breaking our spell. His head whips around, and he slams on the brakes, sending us both careening forward. His hand shoots out protectively, catching me and holding me back along with my seat belt.
“Shit,” he mutters, nearly having blown right through a red light and into oncoming traffic. His hand leaves my chest, and I try to catch my breath. He runs that hand through his hair as I pick up my purse and bag that had slid off my lap and onto the floor. “Are you okay?”
And like he can’t resist, his hand comes back for me, brushing hair away from my face as he caresses my cheek, checking me over. After he tried to save me.
No. Today I am not okay.
A cascade of chills rolls down my body, and I force myself to pull away from his touch, such easy pickings where he’s concerned. “I’m good to get out here.”
“Elle—”
But his objection gets lost as I hastily unbuckle my seat belt and fly out the door, clutching my bags in my hands as they smash into me while I run like the coward I am. He’ll break me in two if I let him. So vulnerable and easy to destroy, he’d do it without even breaking a sweat. I can’t let that happen. Not again.
So I run. Up through the school grounds and into the building. It’s only as I reach my desk and stow my things away that I realize I forgot my scarf in his car.
Dammit.
14
She left her scarf in my car two days ago. Two days. And like the creeper I am, it’s found its way to my bedroom.
Into my nightstand and then my bed.
It’s losing some of her fragrance, and I wonder if that’s because I’ve smelled it as often as I have. I haven’t messaged her about it. Haven’t said anything to Stella either, when I so easily could just hand it off to her to return to her teacher.
Her teacher.
I’ve been waiting. Curious to see if Elle will call or text, requesting I return it.
Or worse yet, if she’ll seek me out and do it in person.
It’s late now, and I should be asleep, but as I hold the damn scarf up to my nose and inhale her sweet floral scent—my cock hardening—I do something I absolutely should not do. I get up and walk over to the window that faces hers, unlock it, and open it up wide.