Page 54 of Devilish Ink

I should have sighed in relief that he wasn’t going to argue. Instead the backs of my eyes stung and I was grateful that the darkness hide my rejection.

This was how it was supposed to be, I told myself. This was how I was supposed to protect myself.

I couldn’t help but wonder why I wasn’t soothed at all.

I rummaged around for my clothes (not my torn hose, those were clearly beyond repair). I noticed Lee doing the same, his bigarm fishing over the side of the mattress, pawing around like a St Bernard.

“I can get my clothes all by myself,” I whispered, watching as he struggled against sleep.

“I’m sure you can.” He rolled over to grin at me, eyes just slits. “And I can get mine all by myself.”

I stopped, halfway into my top, arms craned overhead. Hair in my eyes. Miniskirt askew.

I tugged my top down. “Why do you need your clothes?”

“I’m not letting you walk home.” He tugged on his jeans. “I’ll drive.”

He disappeared from the bedroom in his low-slung jeans and no shirt.

“I don’t need you to drive me,” I called after him.

There was no answer from outside the darkened bedroom.

“Lee?” I shouted. “What are you doing?”

Only silence greeted me.

With a grumble, I finished getting dressed.

I found Lee by the door, key swinging on his finger. He opened the door and held it open for me but taking up most of the doorway yet again.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You don’t have to drive me.”

This was a fling, right? A one-night stand. Tomorrow didn’t exist for the two of us. He simplycouldn’tdrive me home. It would ruin everything.

“I want to.”

“Lee,” I let out a noise of exasperation, “I don’t need you to, okay?”

Our stares warred, in silence. Who would give in first?

“Well then,” I finally blurted out.

I pushed past him, my body brushing against his bare torso, sending a shiver of need through me. I almost stopped, almost turned into him and pressed into him.

God, how I wanted to beg that he take me back inside. I stumbled out into the cold, trying to outrun these thoughts.

I heard the door close behind me. Heard the lock turn. The sound stole the air from my lungs faster than the icy air. For a second I thought he’d just locked the door behind me.

But then I heard his footsteps behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to find Lee following me, his shearling-lined jacket open over a bare chest and raw tattoo.

The laces of his untied boots flicked against the frozen concrete. Lines from the sheets still etched across his cheek like a map I wasn’t supposed to still have in my possession.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, hurrying my step.

Lee stuffed his hands casually into his pockets. The night backdropped him like he was on a photoshoot for some Nordic perfume. Lumberjack Noir. Goddamn him.

“I’m driving you home,” he said. “Car’s this way.”

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