Page 28 of Under Your Scars
“Not a date,” he confirms, and I slowly sit down as he pushes in my chair so I’m comfortably snug against the table. Along with the lasagna, there is a box of garlic knots, two fruit tarts for dessert, and a bottle of red wine with two delicate glasses. As he pours the wine, I look out the window and listen to the rain pelting onto the side of the building.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take you home.”
I can’t help it, I scoff. He raises an eyebrow in confusion. “A guy like you will get robbed in my neighborhood.”
He smiles and sets down the wine bottle, handing me a plastic fork. “I can take care of myself, Elena.”
I take a small bite of the pasta, and I groan obnoxiously. “Oh my God!”
“Amazing, right?”
I nod. “Mhm.”
I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, so the conversation is minimal as I stuff my face with the decadent, cheesy lasagna, the garlic bread, and my fruit tart. I lean back into my chair with a satisfied huff. “That was so good,” I say, taking the last sip of my wine. “Thank you, Mr. Reeves.”
“Elena, my name isChristian.”
I playfully roll my eyes. “I know what your name is.”
“Then use it.”
“I did, actually.” He raises an eyebrow in confusion as I bite my lip. “Name dropping you has its perks. I finished all those plans for the orphanage. We’re going tomorrow,Mr.Reeves.”
I watch him grin and bite the inside of his cheek. I refuse to call him Christian to his face, because I’m still his employee, no matter how nice he is to me. If I started using his first name, it would open the door wider and wider until we can’t close it again, and one of us is going to get hurt.
Me.I’mgoing to be the one to get hurt, because he’s the untouchable Christian Reeves and I’m nobody.
It’s still raining when we leave, but he doesn’t lead me out the front door of the building. Instead, we go to the private parking garage reserved for the most important people in the company. He has an entire floor of the garage dedicated to him, which is overkill since he’s only one man and can only drive one car at a time. Perks of being rich, I guess.
He opens the passenger door to his Aston Martin for me, and my old heels and thrift store outfit feel horribly out of place against the pristine leather seats and shiny black exterior of the luxury car.
I shrink into my seat as reality comes crashing back to me.
What does he really want from me? My body, most likely. What else do I have to offer him?
I feel his finger poke my temple and I blink at him. “Where’d you go? I lost you in here.” He taps my temple again.
“Sorry,” I mumble. A horrible, sickening feeling makes its way into my gut, and I check my phone. It’s almost nine. I’m an hour late for my shift at the Hellfire Lounge. “Oh God, oh shit!” I grip Christian’s arm as tight as I can and shake him. “Please, you have to take me to the Hellfire Lounge right now! Frank’s going to kill me!” Christian doesn’t start driving and I lean over the center console and shake him again by the front of his shirt, disturbed by his lack of distress at this extremely dire situation. “Please! You have to take me there now—mmph!”
He shuts me up by pulling my head close to him and capturing my lips in a kiss.
“I already took care of it, Elena.” He wraps his hands around my waist and hoists me from the passenger seat and into his lap like I weigh nothing. In the process, my head bumps against the roof and he tenderly rubs the spot for me, though it didn’t hurt. “Your friend Kate is covering for you.”
I scoff in disbelief. “Kate doesn’t cover for anyone.”
“Well, I asked nicely,” he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ears and cupping my cheeks. I assume‘asking nicely’is rich people speak for‘bribed’. I turn my head and even though it’s dark outside, I shudder.What if someone comes out here and sees me with him?
“Don’t worry, no one can see in,” Christian says, as if he can read my thoughts. “It’s five percent tint. I single-handedly fund the MCPD from all the tickets they give me for it, but it’s worth it. We could get up to all kinds of nefarious things in here and nobody would ever know.”
I gulp, nodding, trying not to think about the fact that I’m straddling the CEO’s lap right now in his expensive car after he just bought me dinner and let me sleep in his office all day. I’m really asking for things to go wrong at this point.
I try to climb back into the passenger seat, but his grip on my waist is firm. His lips go to my neck, lightly nipping at my pulse point. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I part my lips slightly and let out a small puff of breath. “Home.”
Christian removes the elastic band holding my braid together and loosens the twists, letting my hair fall free over my shoulders and down my back. “Are you sure you want to go home?” he asks, his voice low and husky. His cologne wraps around me like a mist of hot lust and any common sense I have left gets lost in his blue eyes looking up at me. He glances at his watch. “It’s 8:54. How about I take you home at nine?”
My voice falters. “What are we going to do for the next six minutes?”
