Page 40 of Instigator

“Let me have a do-over. Please. We’ll go down to the bistro, you’ll have your harvest bowl salad, and I’ll do my damn best to make it up to you.”

“I’ve got a lot to do…”

To my surprise, he smiles, his cornflower-blue eyes sparkling. “We both know you’re going to be up working until three o’clock in the morning.”

“Okay, you don’t have to call me out like that,” I joke.

He snickers. “You know I do. It’s basically my job, Annie.”

“Ceci,” I correct.

But he shakes his head. “You’re Annie to me.”

My mouth dries out. “I don’t know how we do this.”

He extends his hand to me. “The same way we wanted to do this the other night. Except this time, I won’t chicken out.”

“You’re not freaking out?”

“Nope. Not with you.”

I narrow my eyes. “Why me?”

“Because I trust you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I don’t know Ceci,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue so perfectly. “I know Annie. And that means I know you.”

I swallow my fears. “All right. I guess we can have lunch.”

Aidan grins as I round my desk and disconnect my laptop from the dock. It takes no time at all to pack up my backpack, shrug on my coat, and grab the bag of chocolates. I can leave the flowers here overnight, but—actually, wait, no. That will only invite questions from Bex.

“Can you carry those for me?” I ask him.

He nods. “Don’t want Dr. Whitney to give you shit?”

“She’s impossible.”

His laugh warms me to my very core. “You love her.”

I smile, thinking of my friend and colleague. “I really, really do.”

“Did you drive here, or did you take a rideshare?”

He remembered I hate driving and regularly call a car rather than take public transportation. He really does know me.

“I didn’t drive.”

“Excellent. You’ll ride with me, then.”

He jerks his head, and I follow him out of the office, locking up. His footsteps echo as he strides through the halls of the practice facility with purpose. This is his domain. As captain, he’s king of the castle.

We don’t encounter anyone in the halls, which is good. I don’t know how I’d explain his carrying this enormous bouquet beside me.

His car is a sleek midnight-blue luxury SUV. He opens the passenger door for me, then ducks into the back seat and settles the flowers in the middle with the seat belt pulled across the vase.

The interior of the SUV is thick with the scent of cedar and citrus. A lemon air freshener hangs from the rearview mirror. A metal water bottle sits in the cupholder, and I spy a disabled-parking placard in the side pocket, but aside from that, the car is spotless. Devoid of personality.