Page 77 of You Rock My World
Her name flashes on the screen a second later.
I tap the green button, and she doesn’t even let me say hello. “You’re home early?”
I let my head fall back against the headrest, closing my eyes, picturing her on the other end of the line. “Yeah, a flying slot cleared tonight, and we took it.”
“Is it safe for me to come over?” Her voice dips, cautious but hopeful.
“You want to?”
“Dorian.” She exhales a soft rush of breath into the receiver that makes my grip tighten on my phone. “I haven’t seen you in six weeks; I’m dying to be with you.”
“We’ll be alone,” I clarify. I don’t want to dance around what nearly happened the last two times we were by ourselves. “No Tessa to interrupt. No awards to get.”
“Do I have to bring handcuffs?” Her tone is light, but there’s a breathless edge to it.
“Kinky. I like where this is going.” I grin, adjusting the AC vents as the car grows hotter—or maybe it’s me.
“Wait, that did not come out right. I meant so that you’ll keep your hands to yourself.” She rushes to correct herself, her words too fast and flustered, and it makes my smirk widen.
I straighten, rolling my neck, the tension not entirely from the flight. “I know what you meant, but what aboutyourhands?”
“I’ve been working on impulse control. Worst case, I’ll sit on them.”
I laugh. “Can you be ready in thirty?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m still on the road. I’ll come pick you up.”
I signal to Ned. Turns out, I will ask him to make a U-turn after all.
35
JOSIE
Dorian’s SUV is already parked at the curb when I exit my condo. It’s dark and inconspicuous, no one would guess who’s hiding behind the tinted windows. The moment I exit the pedestrian gate of my building, the back door cracks open for me to slip in. Dorian doesn’t get out, he can’t. Someone could recognize him.
So I slip in and pull the door shut. And then it’s just us. No screens, no cities separating us, nothing to diffuse the electric pressure knotting between my ribs. The car’s cabin isn’t small, but with him in it, it feels like a trap. Not one I want to escape from—one I want to get caught in forever.
“Hi,” I manage, linking my hands in my lap to physically stop myself from reaching for him.
“Hey,” he greets me, his gaze dragging over me, warm and amused. “You look cozy.”
The SUV glides into traffic, but it might as well be floating from the way my internal organs lose sense of gravity.
“I thought you liked cozy.”
“Oh, Ilovecozy,” Dorian hums, leaning a fraction closer. He traces the hem of my sleeve with the tip of one finger and mutters, “Nice sweater.”
Iknewwalking into this car was a mistake.
“You like the spooky cats?”
His thumb brushes a tiny, embroidered black cat on my side. It’s the gentlest motion, a slow, lazy drag. But my body reacts as if he’s touching skin.
“Soft,” he murmurs, to himself.
I don’t know if he means the fabric or me, but it doesn’t matter because I’m already melting, muscles turning into something traitorous and pliant.
