Page 17 of Drift
For one wild second, my brain refused to make sense of what I was seeing. Then panic slammed into me. “Someone stole my car.”
I spun in a slow circle, scanning the lot. Nothing. My beat-up little sedan might have been worth more in nostalgia than dollars, but it was mine.
I turned back toward my spot and finally noticed a speck of white tucked beneath the wiper blade of the sleek black SUV parked where my car should be. It looked brand new.
I blinked once, then again. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no way.”
The thing probably cost more than my entire degree.
I approached cautiously, half expecting an alarm to start screaming at me for daring to breathe near it. Nothing happened.
My heart pounding, I tugged the slip of paper free.
You’re not dying in that piece of crap.
Keys are on your kitchen table.
My mouth dropped open. “He did not.”
But deep down, I already knew he had.
My pulse still hadn’t slowed by the time I reached my apartment door. I fumbled with my keys, muttering about how Chance apparently hadn’t needed them when he let himself in last night.
The second I stepped inside, my gaze locked on the kitchen table.
There they were.
A set of keys, resting exactly where he said they’d be. A shiny black key fob with a dealership tag still attached, looped through a braided leather keychain.
My heart thudded hard enough to hurt. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I snatched them up and stalked over to the windows to make sure they were still locked. Same with my bedroom. The deadbolt to the door had been flipped before I headed outside.
Nothing was out of place. But somehow Chance had gotten in, left a luxury SUV in my parking spot, and vanished again without me hearing a sound.
Maybe I’d slept through it.
Heat crept up my neck as I considered why I’d been out cold. Exhausted in every possible way after he’d made me come, even so many hours later. The thought made my cheeks burn hotter.
“Fantastic,” I muttered. “I passed out so hard from an orgasm that I missed a full-blown breaking and entering.”
Half of me wanted to admire his audacity. The other part wanted to kick him in the balls for making the decision without me.
I turned the fob over in my hand, tracing the embossed logo with my thumb. I had no clue how he’d managed to buy me a brand-new vehicle so quickly. Or why he’d done it when hehadn’t even bothered to call or text after what had happened between us.
He’d crossed every boundary imaginable, but I couldn’t ignore what this meant. Buying me a car wasn’t a casual gesture. It was a statement. One that said I wasn’t on my own anymore, whether I’d asked for help or not. Even without my brother here.
Relief pulsed through the irritation, stubborn and unwelcome. If he was willing to go this far to make sure I drove something safe, maybe he wouldn’t avoid me anymore. And if we spent time together, maybe he’d give in to temptation again.
But that didn’t mean he got a free pass for disappearing last night. Or for deciding he knew what was best for me without asking.
I set the keys back on the table, pulled my phone from my pocket, and hit his contact before I could talk myself out of it.
The line rang three times. Then a low, rough voice came through the speaker. “You okay?”
That was it. No greeting or explanation. Just that gravel-and-grit tone that hit somewhere deep in my chest. And my panties, dammit.
“You broke into my apartment!” I snapped.
