Page 50 of You Make Me Feel
He removes his fingers from my face and walks me out into the night, through his apartment door and out to the exterior of the hotel. The air is cool, the sound of the waves faint in the distance. When we reach my car, he opens the door for me, his hand brushing the small of my back in a way that feels unintentional but isn’t.
“Goodnight, Sadie.”
“Goodnight, Zach,” I breathe.
“Message me when you get home. Just one word. Safe.”
I nod, and he steps back as I slide into the driver’s seat, my pulse still racing.
I grip the steering wheel, but my eyes find himthrough the windshield. He’s still standing there, hands in his pockets, shirt open at the neck, the wind teasing his hair. His expression is unreadable, but the heat in his gaze pins me to the seat. It’s not the kind of look a friend gives. It’s a warning. A promise. My breath comes faster, my thighs pressing together as I imagine what it’ll feel like when he finally stops holding back.
I turn the key, the engine purring to life, but my pulse won’t slow. He’s still watching me as I drive away, and I know one thing for sure. I might have escaped tonight, but I’m already the prey.
Maybe I have been for a while.
fourteen
SADIE
I’m signing for a box of new releases when my phone buzzes on the counter.
Would you prefer to be chased in daylight or at night? – Zach
The air catches in my throat. He’s not backing out. He wants to do this, maybe as much as I do. But still, the shock of it makes me laugh, causing the delivery guy to shoot me a quizzical look.
I put the phone down, pretending to check the delivery details.
Another buzz. And I can’t help but sneak a look at the litup screen.
I’m going to be asking you a lot of questions. Take your time answering them. There’s no rush. – Zach
My pulse does the opposite of no rush. Instead, I’m thinking of the way he talked to me last night. His voice low, his expression soft. He looked at me like he couldn’t pull his gaze away.
And it’s been a long time since anybody did that.
The delivery driver takes his tablet back, satisfied with my unreadable scrawl on the screen and gives me a nod before leaving. But before I can think anymore about Zach’s question, Romy bursts through the door carrying two coffees and the scent of cinnamon rolls.
“It’s an all-out war next door,” she announces, bumping the door shut with her hip. “Mylene and Eileen both received invitations to the gala. Autumn’s leaving it up to them to decide who’s going and neither of them are backing down.”
The sixty-something twins refuse to be in the same room as each other, even though they live on the same tiny island. Apparently, they’ve not spoken to each other in over forty years.
The last time they were at the same party was before I moved here. According to Francie it was mayhem trying to keep them apart.
I laugh as I take the coffee from Romy. My phone buzzes again against the counter, and I don’t even have to look to know who it’s from. I’m guessing he has a few free minutes and has decided torturing me is the best way of passing them.
I slowly turn it over so it’s face down on the counter.
Romy’s eyes narrow. “Why do you look so guilty?” she asks me. “Who’s messaging you?”
“It’s a long story. Tell me more about Mylene and Eileen. Is it going to be pistols at dawn to decide who goes?”
She opens her mouth to answer when my phone buzzes again. I try not to look at it. I’d never make a good spy.
“Well aren’t you Miss Popular,” she teases. “Come on, tell me who it is.”
“I just got added to a group chat. With other bookstore owners. They’re shit talking about eBooks.” I try not to look surprised at how easily I can lie. Who knew?
“Sounds scintillating,” Romy says, already looking bored. Thank God.
