Page 9 of One Wild Ride

FOUR

Alexander

“What’s happening here?” Aria asked with fear widening her eyes.

I made a terrible mistake.

Did you think shoving a woman into a dark, dirty room without anyone knowing was the right thing to do, Alex?

Why can’t I think straight around her? And why do I keep forcing her into dark rooms?

“Look, I’m sorry. I panicked okay?” I held up my hands before turning to open the door.

That’s when my heart plummeted. The handle wouldn’t move and when I pushed it, I realized the door was locked.

Fuck. We were locked in here.

Fuck. Now I had to tell Aria we were trapped.

Fuck. She was going to hate me even more now.

I turned back to face her and smiled. The grin seemed to only make things worse as she frowned. I held up my hands. Aria wrapped her arms tightly around herself as dread began to roll off her.

This wasn’t how I expected the night to go at all. I thought she would be excited by the opportunity I offered her, and then we would celebrate together. Instead, she called me an asshole, and I forced her into a broom closet.

Maybe I was an asshole?

“I didn’t plan to come here tonight to rape you,” I said and instantly regretted it.

Her mouth dropped open as tears streamed down her face.

“Shit, that isn’t what I meant.” I shook my hands and she flinched. “I mean, I never planned to hurt you.”

Damn it. My mouth was making everything worse. I don’t seem to be very good at putting women at ease. And I was even worse dealing with the most beautiful woman in the world.

“I just want to leave, okay?” Her voice trembled.

I stepped forward to comfort her, but she stumbled back slamming into the wall behind her.

“Look, Aria, I wanted a moment to explain myself. You walked off before I could say anything. I didn’t realize this was a broom closet. I thought maybe it was an office or work room or something. Just a room with some privacy so I could explain.”

She wiped her tears with her fingers. I reached into my pocket and gave her a handkerchief. I waved it in the air like a white flag and gave her a small grin. Aria hesitantly reached forward and grabbed it before blowing her nose into the cloth.

“Then why won’t you open the door?” Aria asked, her voice small, and hiccupped before trying to hand me back the handkerchief. I waved it away letting her know she could keep it.

“The door won’t open.” There was no easy way to tell her so I let it out. “We’re locked in here.” I turned and showed her how the doorknob wouldn’t move.

Finding her resolve, Aria pushed past me and tried her hand at the door—like I was completely inept in using something as simple as a doorknob. For a minute, she pushed and pulled at the doorknob with no success. Once she pounded on the door with her fist and began to yell, I joined her.

We tried for several minutes until Aria stepped back with rapid breath.

“I can’t believe we are stuck in here. What were you thinking dragging me in here?” She slapped my arm, not hard, but enough to let me know she wasn’t happy.

“I don’t know. There’s something about you. I get flustered and don’t really know what to say or how to act.”

Aria sat back on a stool. “I’m being serious, Mr. Hawthorne—”

“Please, call me Alex,” I said and smiled.

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