I tuck the napkin into my purse. “I’ll give Jay a call. I’d love to get together with her.” Truth is, I don’t have many close friends in Boston, not really. Not the kind who shows up for you. The thought leaves a hollow ache I try to smother with a smile.
We push through the doors, and the wind hits like a slap. It’s been unusually cold this spring, and I’m really looking forward to summer.
“You driving?” Jaxon asks.
“I took an Uber.” I’m already fishing my phone from my purse, the app loading, when his hand comes down gently over mine, halting the motion.
“I’ll drive you home.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to put you out.”
“You’re not.” His answer is so simple, so certain. Then his arm slides around my back again, anchoring me to him, sheltering me from the wind like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And dammit, I really hate how much I love it.
My chest tightens. Why does this feel so different? Is it just because I haven’t been touched in so long? Because my body is starved for even the smallest kind of affection? Or is it because it’s him—safe, steady, come-to-your-rescue Jaxon?
I have no idea why he hasn’t been snatched up before now. Okay, that’s not entirely true. Years ago, Ember pretended to be pregnant just to snag a marriage proposal, and then the whole fiasco went public—thanks to the snakes in my profession—it’s no wonder the guy is gun shy. Honestly, I’d be too.
We walk in silence for a moment, dodging pedestrians on the busy Friday night streets. The air smells faintly of roasted chestnuts and exhaust fumes, a weirdly urban mix.
“I’m right here,” he says, pointing to his car. A plug-in hybrid, modest and practical, yet somehow exactly Jaxon. I’ve seen the flashy rides the other players drive, but this one…fits him.
He opens the door for me, and I slide in. I catch myself studying him as he circles and climbs into the driver’s seat. He sits for a moment, eyebrows raised, like he’s just realized something.
“What?”
“I can’t believe I don’t know where you live,” he admits.
I laugh. “Yeah, we’ve both been here for years and…never hooked up.”
Oh. God. Did I just say that out loud? Freudian slip, much? My stomach does a weird twist. No, I am not saying I want to hook up. He’s my friend. I’m not about to ruin what little normalcy I have with some stupid impulse—something I might’ve imagined in the past.
I clear my throat, leaning down to unzip my coat a little, heat rushing to my face. Thank goodness it’s dark and he can’t see my blush. “I mean…we’ve never met up.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of crazy, isn’t it?”
I shrug, brushing off the tension as if it’s nothing. “We both lead very busy lives.”
“That’s true.” He adjusts the rearview mirror, and I catch his profile in the dim light.
“So…where to?”
“Back Bay.”
“Jeez. We’re practically neighbors. I’m in Beacon Hill.”
“Nice area.” I watch the way the streetlights trace his jawline as he starts the car, the warmth from the heater brushing against my fingers.
“Bought it as an investment,” he says. “A lot of the guys live there, but my place is too damn big for just me.”
I laugh softly. “Lots of space to grow into.”
His jaw tightens. He just nods, pulling into traffic. “I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve run into each other. I’ve never seen you at Kilting Around before.”
“I don’t go out much.”
We drive in companionable silence for a few blocks. Then he glances at me, and I feel my chest tighten. “So that guy at the coffee shop who stood you up…” His voice carries that low, protective edge. “Need me to pay him a visit?”