Page 13 of Inception

He waited a whole three seconds before pulling my hand away. I flopped back into my seat as he slinked his right arm around my headrest and then leaned in over me with his other arm. The smell of his cologne—a sort of spicy, woodsy scent that made my stomach pinch—wrapped itself around me like an intoxicating embrace.

I pushed back in my seat, fighting off the sudden urge to do something embarrassing, like lean in and inhale him.

Or worse.

He pulled the seat-belt out easily, and brought it down across my body in one sweeping motion. “There,” he said upon hearing theclick.

“I didn’t need your help.”

“Clearly.” His face was still lingering just inches from mine, his gripping blue eyes grazing over the edges of my face—studying me.

“You probably have it rigged so you can like, put the moves on girls or something,” I said, feeling flustered.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“As if I even—” My retort quickly died in the back of my throat as his eyes dropped down to my lips and settled there, making my breath hitch.

Damn, he was close.

Too. Close.

Apparently he thought so too, evidenced by his clenched jaw and hasty return to his own seat. Within seconds, he threw the car in gear and then barreled off down the darkened street, the engine droning as he pushed down harder on the pedal.

I turned my attention outside the passenger window and worked on steadying my breathing.

“Sorry about what happened back there,” he said after a few beats of silence. His eyes mapped my body as though he were looking for battle wounds. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, totally. Best night of my life.”

I had somehow managed to acquire an enemyandan assault, all in one night—without even trying. One could only imagine what I might accomplish if I put forth the effort.

On the plus side, at least she only assaulted me with liquids and not her fist.

“I tried to tell you,” he said complacently.

“Tell me what?” I glared at him. “That your crazy girlfriend was about to attack me out of nowhere for standing beside you? No. I don’t think you tried to tell methat.”

“I guess not.” It sounded as though he were smiling through the words, but I kept my eyes fixed outside my window out of fear that I might sock him if I caught him laughing.

“Anyway, she’s myex,” he corrected. His tone was so low I wasn’t even sure he believed it himself. “We’re not together.”

“Did anyone tellherthat?”

He didn’t look at me when he answered, “It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure it is,” I grumbled, patting down my whiskey stained jeans, certain that I didn’t want to be a part of it.

There was no doubt in my mind that there was unfinished business between the two of them. That much I knew. What I didn’t know was how I factored into it. Why had she felt so threatened by something as trivial as a conversation between two people? Surely I wasn’t the first girl to speak to her boyfriend (ex or otherwise). Did she go around assaulting everyone who spoke to him or was that just for my benefit?

Something felt off about it.

And now he was driving me home, which probably wasn’t going to go over very well with the ice queen. I could only imagine the various shades of horror on Nikki’s face if she got wind of this. He was taking a major risk by giving me a ride. I couldn’t help but wonder—

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” he asked without looking.

“After everything that happened tonight, why did you follow me out and offer to drive me home?”

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