Page 5 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
He was convinced I had nothing to worry about and I was convinced my world had ended. Who was right? Who would win?
I should have been afraid of losing, but I wasn’t. Maybe because I felt like I could snap out of my bubble any time, like waking up from a dream, the minute I stepped out of his tight, very warm and edgy car.
“Don’t worry. You’ll snap out of it.”
He read my mind. It was too easy for him.Iwas too easy or maybe not intriguing enough. I wanted to capture his imagination. I could say anything to him no matter how true and close to the bone and it wouldn’t matter because I’d never see him again. That thought perked up my heartbeat.
“Would it surprise you to know that I haven’t told one single friend, aside from my doorman Roy, about my financial situation and my homeless state?”You don’t countwas the unspoken aftermath of my words.
He shrugged and glided the purring car to a stop at the next light with a slow elegance I’d never experienced before in all the thousands of cab rides I’d taken in this city. The man was still unfluttered.
He said, “Would it surprise you to know that people treat Uber drivers as if they were therapists—or bartenders? Cheaper than the former and healthier than the latter. I’ve heard it all. I try to stay cool. Keep my professional distance. Occupational hazard.”
That big open lungful of excitement blew out of me like he’d shot me. I was just another passenger cashing in on the anonymity and close quarters of his little Uber car.
“I guess it wouldn’t surprise me. Sorry to bore you.” I turned away and watched the twinkling holiday lights mock me outside the window.
When I felt his hand on mine, I snapped around to see him staring and sorry. His expression was the furthest thing from distant that I’d seen since watching Margo and George’s expressions while they gazed at each other during their marriage ceremony months ago. God Almighty. My panties were creaming.
“Don’t,” he whispered. It felt so intimate, too intimate. Made me vibrate from the inside out.
“Don’t what?” I whispered back as if he’d cast a spell on me—or at least my voice box.
“Don’t think I don’t care, pretty lady.Melissa.”
The way he said my name, the way he held his warm hand over mine, the way his blue eyes, all casual and mirthful a minute ago, now penetrated me—oh don’t think of penetration—made me too hot to sit still and even my massive self-discipline couldn’t stop me from squirming, just a little.
“I’m sorry—about implying I was like your bar tender. Implying that I wanted to keep a professional distance between us.”
Us? What the hell was this about? Was he playing me?
Well, duh. Of course he was. The thing was, it didn’t matter. I was intrigued past any wariness I might have had. And this was one of those nights that felt like a cutout from the space-time continuum. Odd and freeing.
“Why wouldn’t you keep a distance? Why would you care? I’m a perfect stranger.”
“I honestly don’t know. But my chest hurts to see you hurt. I can’t help it.”
I stared at him while he maneuvered the car and there was a massive traffic jam—big surprise—so we stopped again and he turned to me. I didn’t know what the hell to say, or how to react, or how to feel.
This was not something I was prepared for.
Boom.
“How do you know I’m hurt? And who says I’m hurt, anyway? I’m not. I’m temporarily down and out. I can handle it. They say every successful person has a downturn or two.”
I may as well hand over my birth certificate and start there with the story of my life. But why not? He’s a cheap and safe substitute for a therapist, right?
Wrong. I know deep down that he’s anything but safe. I don’t feel fear, not of physical harm. But maybe I ought to be wary of his effect on the rest of me, how he shakes me with desire, the need to have reckless sex.
That must be it. In all the furor of the past month to dig myself from debt, keep myself from the bankruptcy court, and hold my head high enough to stay above water, I’d forgotten all about everything else. Including, and especially, romance.
“I know because I can see it in your eyes. The sadness. The sense of loss, defeat. It’s all there. Only partially obscured by steely reserve and purpose. You’re a singular woman.”
“Singular?” Of all the things to say. I hang onto that word because I’m having trouble digesting the rest.
“I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re extraordinary. Being gorgeous doesn’t make you stand out—or it wouldn’t—except for all the other qualities you combine. You’re an unbelievable package,Melissa.”
“How the hell could you know that? You don’t know me. You know nothing about me.” I’m trying to be incredulous, but he’s very convincing and let’s face it, I want to believe him, don’t I? My panties are going to be steaming by the time I get to Margo and George’s.
