Page 3 of Sweet Nothings

Yet I’m not.

I fish my phone from my purse and call an Uber. I consider calling our family driver but remember he has the night off. When my ride is confirmed, I quickly type a text to Roe to tell her I’m feeling sick and I’ve ordered a ride home. I know she won’t buy it, but I don’t care. She probably won’t even check her phone until I’m already back home, snuggled in bed.

I’ve finished typing out my text when an alert pops up on my phone telling me my ride is here. A black sedan.

I look up just as it pulls alongside the curb.

“Thank God,” I mutter with a sigh of relief, stuffing my phone in my purse.

After opening the back door, I slide along the smooth black seat, with the scent of clean leather filling my nose.

Reaching behind me, I tug the door, but it won’t budge. Looking up, I catch sight of a hand gripped onto the top of it, keeping me from closing it.

Suddenly, the man bends, lowering his face in my view. Two dark-as-midnight eyes stare at me. A long silver necklace dangles from his neck, surrounded by a black button-down shirt beneath a black suit jacket. He runs his fingers through his near-black hair. Everything about him is dark.

Dark and brooding. The men my mother has always told me to avoid.

He’s the man I saw sitting at Roe’s date’s table earlier. The one with the woman practically dry humping him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, smelling like cigarettes, whiskey, and mint.

“What do you mean?” I ask, stunned.

“You’re in my car,” he states, unamused. His cobalt blue eyes flick to the driver.

I catch the driver watching me through the rearview mirror. Holding a breath, I look around as if I’ll find a clue to help me figure out what the hell is going on.

I lean back to see if I can find the rideshare company logo on either the front or back windshield, but my head swims, and I grab the seat like I’m on a carnival ride. Uh-oh. The drinks have finally kicked in.

“Oh, I thought this was the rideshare I ordered.” I frown and tilt my head to the side and scoot forward. “Sorry,” I mutter.

My cheeks are burning, and I can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or the utter embarrassment brewing inside me.Kill me now.

“It’s fine.” The man stops me. “I can give you a ride.”

I peer up at him, confused. He’s a stranger, and the first rule you learn as a child is to never take rides from strangers.

“It’s okay, I already have one. I just got confused.” I shake my head, close my eyes, then reopen them, but the man is still staring down at me through his open door.

“I saw you talking with Collin earlier,” he says, his body blocking my ability to leave. He brings an already lit cigarette to his mouth, draws in a long, deep inhale, then tips his head up to blow the smoke into the night.

“Collin?” I ask.

“Yeah.” His soft lips press together. There’s a sadness in his eyes I hadn’t noticed until now. Maybe it’s just the weird lighting from the neon club sign shining down on him. “Collin’s my frat brother.”

I nod, the realization dawning on me. “He’s dating my sister.”

“Sister, huh?”

I don’t speak another word. I can’t.

The fact this man noticed me in a jam-packed club, surrounded by hundreds of other people? He sawme, and from all the way across the room, too.

I can’t stop looking into his eyes. It’s as if I recognize them from somewhere, but I know deep down I don’t. Maybe it’s the pain I see hidden behind his cobalt blues. The corners of his mouth are turned down in what seems to be a permanent frown.

“Slide over,” he orders, dropping his cigarette and stubbing it out with the toe of his shiny black dress shoe. I scoot deeper into the car, not realizing I’m doing it until my back hits the opposite door. “Ray can drive you home.”

“I don’t know you,” I say, but the slur in my words makes me cringe. “How do I know you’re not a serial killer or something?”

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