Page 13 of Hidden Obsession

The passenger side door shut, and I didn’t have to look up to know he rounded the vehicle before he opened his door and got in. The deep sound of the engine roared to life before he put it in Drive. I watched out the window in silence, the soft hum of music playing through the speakers.

Deep in my thoughts, it wasn’t until we were pulling into a residential area, his SUV slowing down before it pulled into a long driveway, that I realized we weren’t anywhere close to my place.

“Umm, Hollis—“ He shut the engine off, both his hands still on the steering wheel as he looked straight towards the garage door in front of us.

An oddly comfortable silence fell between us.

I watched as his Adam’s apple rose and fell before he turned to look at me. I was positive he was about to tell me an Uber would pick me up or something. I had no idea why I’d assumed when he said let’s go home, he meant my place. My eyes drifted to the front of the house, and something inside my chest ached.

The house was beautiful.

It had a river rock façade and a wrap-around porch with two chairs and a small table between them sitting on the far end. A huge elm tree, beautiful and old with green leaves, sat at the front and probably provided great shade for the house during a hot summer day. Lush green grass surrounded it, and I could almost picture him mowing the lawn shirtless. I bet his neighbors love that, I thought to myself.

“I should have asked, but would you mind eating dinner with me?” Of all the possible things that had sprung to mind, those had not been it. He turned, our eyes connected, and just like that, the sensible, smart side of my brain went blank.

“If not, it’s okay. I can take you home. You don’t know me and you had a traumatic night.” He shook his head and winced. “I should have asked but—“ He took a deep breath, like he had a hard time gathering his thoughts. “I didn’t like the idea of you going back home to be all alone tonight. Not after… not after what happened.”

“Oh.” I sucked in my bottom lip and felt his eyes drop. His hand was suddenly not just up and between us but holding my chin and pulling my lip free with the rough pad of his thumb.

“That’s better,” he muttered to himself. “Let me make you dinner.” The request yet demand made my lips twitched.

“Do you know how to cook?” I asked in a half-suspicious, half-flirty tone. The man was handsome as sin, but by the muscles his outline hinted at under that dress shirt, he also looked like he thrived off protein shakes and green smoothies.

“I do. If you hate it, we can order in. Or we can put a movie on, and I can order in anyhow and just cook you dinner some other time.” His suggestion was so sweet. I wanted to agree so badly, but I knew better.

I should know better.

Just as I was about to turn him down, I noticed it. His cheeks turned slightly pink, and his shoulder did this soft shrug thing I oddly found completely adorable and endearing.

“Let me order us some pizza. We can sit, watch TV, eat, talk… whatever.”

“Talk?”

“About anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Pinky promise.” His hand came between us with his pinky finger extended, and just like that, I melted.

“Okay,” I agreed too easily. “But I’ll pitch in for the pizza. I have some cash in my—“ I started to bend to grab my purse off the floor when he reached and took my hand in his.

I couldn’t help the way my eyes skated down to the way our hands tangled together. His skin was slightly tanner than my pale one with freckles smattered all over his palm and peppered under his sleeve. His hands were big and capable. The difference between them was staggering. Mine ere so much smaller and almost seemed fragile against his.

The sight of them, the clear size difference, should have a big red flag waving in my head.

But that wasn’t the only red flag.

Our size difference was nothing compared to our age difference, not to mention our experience. Looking at him, the way he handled me with care and moved with nothing but confidence, I knew he knew what to do behind closed doors, where I was still not sure if I knew how to kiss right.

“No.”

“No?” I repeated. My brain was fuzzy with all the thoughts about why I shouldn’t go inside his place even though I already agreed and knew I wasn’t going to change my mind.

“I got you,” he reminded me.

“Oh, right.” My lips wobbled at the small sting of rejection. I was being so stupid, making this into so much more than it was. Hollis had promised his brother, that was what this whole thing was about.

But why did it feel like a promise of something so much bigger than dinner?