Page 99 of Captured Heart

“Just John?” I ask.

He smirks. “John...Alexander.”

It’s likedéjà vu, taking me right back to the first day we met, and a smile takes over my face before I can stop it.

Michael hesitates, looking at the outstretched hand before he shakes it. “Michael.”

Alex nods. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Michael answers for me. “She’s gonna call triple-A.”

I can tell he isn’t going to leave me with a stranger, so I decide to set his mind at ease. “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” I say, turning to Alex. “I’ll be fine.”

Alex nods and slowly backs away. “Alright.”

I turn to face Michael. “Go for your meeting. They won’t take long.”

“You sure? I could wait with you.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“Alright. Call me when you get home.”

Although he’s still not comfortable leaving me, his meeting must be important because he gives a reluctant nod and walks away.

Alex waits until Michael is out of sight before he comes to stand beside me again. Sparks are already flying between us, and it’s so hard to keep myself together. He’s close, close enough for me to notice the subtle changes in his face. The faint lines near his eyes. The way his jaw looks a little sharper now. Yet despite his proximity, he still feels miles away.

I want to throw my arms around him and hug him tight, but I don’t know if I should. If I even can. It’s weird. I spent months trying to get over everything that happened, training myself to stop glancing over my shoulder like someone was about to jump out of the shadows. And now, he’s here for not even five minutes, and it feels like the walls have eyes, watching us, waiting.

“He’s a little overprotective,” Alex says, snapping me out of my thoughts. His tone is light, but there’s a flicker of something beneath it. Seems like annoyance, but it could be...jealousy.

“Michael’s just being...Michael. A guy pops out of nowhere, offering to fix my car? Skepticism is kind of justified.”

“I’m wearing a golf shirt,” he counters, as if that’s a valid and convincing argument.

“That doesn’t matter when you look...like...you know...when you look like...you. With your arms and your chest and your...tattoos.” A breathy sigh leaves my lips. “Wow, you look...reallygood.”

He smiles, and I’m taken aback because this is the second one in five minutes. It’s official. He’s a changed man.

“You look good, too.”

It’s subtle, but his gaze roams over me, catching on little details. The plain white blouse I’ve paired with a short floral skirt, the silver locket around my neck, the way I’m nervously shifting from foot to foot. There’s something in the way he’s looking at me, something that feels like appreciation laced with a hint of...lasciviousness.

But maybe I’m imagining it because, for all his gazes and glances, he’s been frustratingly composed. I’m about to tear my hair out because I’m dying to touch him, and he’s cool and unaffected.

I force a casual shrug, though my heart’s still doing somersaults. “This old thing.”

He chuckles, like an actual laugh. I’ve never heard him laugh before. It’s quiet and restrained, just like him. But it’s a small sign that he doesn’t have a chip on his shoulder anymore, a sign that he might actually be happy.

I clear my throat and change the subject before I burst with giddiness. “You wouldn’t happen to be responsible for my car suddenly deciding to throw a tantrum, would you?”

“Not me. I’m on the straight and narrow now.”

Even as he says this, he reconnects the wires. He’s so quick and efficient, his hands moving with the same confidence I remember. As he works, I catch a glimpse of the brown shoelace still tied around his wrist. It’s weathered and raggedy, even frayed in some sections. I can’t believe he still wearing it after all this time. That must mean he’s—

I cut the thought right there before my imagination starts running wild. “How did you find me, anyway?”

He slams the hood shut and leans casually against the car. “One would think after everything that happened, you’d be more careful about what you post on social media.”

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