Page 35 of Take My Hand

“You just need something basic, right?” I ask.

He shrugs and gives me a lost look that pulls a laugh out of my throat.

“Let’s just go with this one.” I point to a lightweight, basic drill that will likely do what he needs it to. If he wants to take cabinet doors off to paint them, hang up new artwork, or put together new furniture, it should do the job.

Although seeing as he asked me if I knew that assembled furniture is an option to buy, I doubt he’ll be getting any DIY new items.

There’s a shelf of boxed drills above my head and I reach for it, but I come up short.

Suddenly, he steps up behind me, his body crowding my own as he grabs the box. The heat of him radiates against my back, setting my nerves on fire, and the desire to lean back, to lean into him, is so damn tempting. It would be so easy with the way his strong, lean chest molds to my back. The scent of him is overpowering in the best way. Just a little lean…

He steps back and the air returns to my head and lungs in a wave. The drill falls into the cart with a thud, and I turn, running my hands over my shorts.

“Thanks,” I say, the word airy and not nearly as unaffected as I would like it to be.

Hayden rubs the back of his neck and peers at me from under the brim of his hat. “What’s next?”

A swarm of butterflies erupts in satisfaction because his voice is just as unsteady as my own.

“I had fun tagging along today,” I say as we pull up outside my building. Disappointment flows through me at the sight of it, knowing our time together has come to an end today.

I debate inviting him up. We could watch a movie and I could make us dinner. Or we could listen to some of my vinyl, knowing that our music taste aligns after letting his phone continue to shuffle through his music library on the drive home.

But that would seem an awful lot like a date. Right?

Or is that something friends would do together? This territory is foreign to me after spending my late teens and first couple of years of my twenties in a relationship.

“It was fun,” Hayden says, throwing the car in park, veins flexing in his hand as he shifts the gear. “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course.”

A silence falls between us. He doesn't seem inclined to just drop me off and dip out.

He shifts in his seat, leaning into the center console and my pulse stutters, watching his every move and waiting to see if he’ll lean a little further, come a little closer.

His tongue darts out and wets his lips. The smooth leather of the seat grows itchy under my legs at the sight.

The car’s engine is a low thrum in the background, the sidewalks clear of people as the sun beats down.

His eyes lock in on mine, holding them captive.

His attention dips to my mouth and I part my lips in a silent invitation, leaning ever so slightly closer to him, seeing if he’s going where I’m wanting to go.

But in a blink, the spell breaks, and he sits back, swallowing heavily as he grips the wheel with a white-knuckled grip. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I do my best to keep a neutral face, hide the disappointment filling my chest, and nod. “Noon still good?”

“Yep.”

I release my seatbelt and open the door, missing the cool air of the car the moment I step outside. Missing Hayden’s presence.

“See you then,” I say, leaning down to catch his eye before closing the door and stepping back.

I can’t see him through the tinted glass, but he makes no move to peel away from the curb. In fact, he doesn’t leave until the front door to my building shuts behind me, waiting until I’m safe inside to take off.

14

HAYDEN

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