Page 59 of Taken By Sin

He looks at me, grinning now. “See? You’re a natural.”

I shake my head, but I’m smiling too, my heart pounding a little less wildly. “You’re too optimistic.”

“No, I just know you,” he says, his tone quieter now, almost tender. “You’re tougher than you think.”

His words hang in the air, warm and steady, and I feel a flicker of confidence where there wasn’t any before. I grip the wheel again, glancing at him for a final nudge.

“Ready?” he asks, his hand brushing mine briefly before settling back on the armrest.

“Ready,” I reply, and this time, I almost believe it.

The engine purrs as I ease the car forward, the gravel crunching softly beneath the tires as we leave the stop sign behind. The road stretches out ahead, flanked by golden fields and trees that bend gently toward the sky. With every passing second, my confidence grows, inching its way into the tight spaces where doubt used to sit.

“Let’s pick up the pace a bit,” he says, his voice easy, like we’re out for a stroll and not hurtling down a long stretch of road.

I press the gas pedal, just a little, and the car responds. The sensation of speed makes my stomach flip, but his presence steadies me. He’s not watching the road as much as he’s watching me, that quiet smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re doing great,” he says. “Feel the rhythm of the road. It’s not about controlling it; it’s about working with it.”

“Working with it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “You make it sound philosophical.”

“Drivingisphilosophical,” he retorts with a smirk. “You’ve got to trust yourself, trust the car, trust the road. It’s a relationship.”

“Pretty deep for someone who cuts people off in traffic,” I tease, the tension in my shoulders easing.

He laughs then, throwing his head back for a moment. “I only do that in the city. Out here, it’s all about the flow.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile creeping across my face. I guide the car around another bend, the movement feeling smoother now, almost natural. The trees create a canopy overhead, their leaves flickering with sunlight as they dance in the breeze. I could do this all day, but driving in the city sounds like a nightmare.

“Now, let’s try pulling over,” he says, pointing to a spot by the side of the road where the grass has been worn down into a makeshift shoulder. “Slow and steady, just like before. Gentle on the brake.”

I follow his instructions, the car easing to a stop. My hands fall from the wheel, and I sit back, exhaling like I’ve just conquered a mountain.

He turns to me, his face glowing with pride. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “For you, maybe. My heart is still racing.”

“Well, then,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt, “we’ve got to celebrate your first lesson. Come on.”

“Celebrate?” I ask, watching as he steps out of the car. He circles to my side and opens the door, extending his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Trust me,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting in that easy, lopsided grin that’s impossible to resist.

I take his hand, letting him pull me out. The grass is soft underfoot as he leads me to the edge of a small hill overlooking the countryside. The view is breathtaking—rolling fields, distant farmhouses, a setting sun that could make any girl’s breath float away.

“This,” he says, gesturing to the world in front of us, “is what driving is about. Freedom. Moments like this. That’s why I wanted you to have a car, to give you that feeling you are so desperately in search of.”

How does he know me so well?

His hand is still holding mine, and I glance up at him, my pulse quickening for reasons that have nothing to do with nerves. There’s something in his gaze—steady and warm, like he believes in me more than I believe in myself.

“You did good today,” he says softly. “I’m proud of you.”

The words wrap around me, quiet but powerful. The first time I have ever heard those words spoken by anyone other than myself. I squeeze his hand, the tension from earliermelting away completely. “Thanks for being patient,” I murmur.

He tilts his head. “You make it easy.”

I laugh, nudging him lightly, but the way his eyes linger on me makes my heart flutter.

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