Page 56 of Envy

Because I’m driving.

A slow smile spreads across my lips.

“I’m driving,” I breathe in awe.

It must sound childish, but I don’t care.

I’ve wanted this for so long—for someone to show me I’m more than just a body.

“When you brake, press it slowly,” he continues, guiding me. “If you stop too suddenly, someone tailing too close might rear-end you, or you’ll be thrown forward. It happens, but only if you’re trying to avoid hitting something—or someone.”

A shiver runs through me. I tense, suddenly afraid of messing up.

His hands smooth over my thighs in slow, measured strokes.

Soothing. Grounding.

My leg shakes less.

We pull into an outdoor shopping mall. As the car rolls to a stop, a valet in a crisp red shirt immediately opens the door. “Welcome, Mr. Nox.”

The valet’s expression remains neutral, as if it’s completely normal to see me sitting on Garret’s lap.

“Park it in front,” Garret orders. “I want my car ready when we’re done.”

We?

The word lingers. I don’t think I’ve ever been included before. My pulse stutters. I’ve never been out alone with a guy before.

“What are we doing here?” I ask. “Don’t you have class?”

“No,” he says, unbuckling me like he does this every day. “And we’re here to shop.”

I blink, caught off guard.

I imagine he wants more things for himself—Garret never wears the same thing twice.

I’ve noticed.

His closet is the size of my entire dorm room floor—maybe bigger.

I wonder where he puts it all when he’s done. Everything he owns is brand new—his socks, his underwear, his fucking bedsheets.

Always black.

Like his cars.

His kitchen.

His dog.

His heart.

Garret takesme into nearly every store.

I don’t ask how much anything costs. I just stand there while he speaks with the clerks, watching the way their faces soften when they look at me—not because they care, but because he’s buying something.

“She looks like a size two.”

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