Page 56 of A Perfect Fit

Tony clears his throat and eyes us from the rearview mirror as he starts up the engine. “Jackass—I mean, Jackson, where would you like me to stop at first?”

I turn to Isabelle. “Bella, can I please have your address?”

A sultry expression fills Isabelle’s face as she eyes me up and down, all cute and doe-eyed, then bats her eyelashes at me. “Dress?” She giggles. “You want my dress? You can take off my dress.”

Jesus.

An image of me ripping that black bodycon dress off her invades my mind, and I instantly feel my blood rushing south.

This woman is going to be the absolute end of me.

“Address,” I clarify. “Not dress. Address, as in where you live.”

“Oh … address?” Isabelle frowns and scratches her head. “Um … what’s my address?”

I drag a hand down my face. “Don’t tell me you forgot your address.”

Her face lights up. “Oh, wait, I remember!” She utters an address to Tony, which does sound legit, thankfully.

Tony pulls out onto the road, and we join the chaos of Manhattan’s Friday night traffic. Outside the car window, bright neon signs flash from restaurants and bars, the sound of car horns blaring in the distance.

I lean back against my car seat and close my eyes, my mind replaying everything that’s happened tonight.

Isabelle falls asleep on my shoulder, and a strand of her long hair falls over her face. I brush it behind her ear and hesitate for a moment, my hand flexing before caressing her cheek.

She deserves to know she’s beautiful inside and out.

Chapter Sixteen

ISABELLE

“Bella, we’re here.”

My eyes open, and I glance around, observing I’m in a car. I think I fell asleep on Jackson’s shoulder earlier.

Speaking of sleep, I just woke up from the strangest yet most vivid dream. I dreamed that Jackson and I ran into Ivy, and I introduced Jackson as my boyfriend to her. Strangely enough, the dream almost feels like reality.

I rub my temples. “Where are we?”

“We’re outside your apartment,” Jackson gently says.

“I miss my bed,” I murmur.

“We’ll be inside soon.”

I yawn, covering my mouth with a hand. “Okay. You’d better not be lying.”

“Promise I’m not.” Jackson steps out of the car and holds open the door as I get out.

His suit jacket is still around my shoulders, but it feels cozy, and I don’t want to give it back. So, I take it off and snuggle it against my chest as though I’m guarding a prized possession.

Jackson’s eyes light up with amusement under the evening sky. “Would you like me to hold that for you?”

“No, don’t steal it from me!” I snap, holding his jacket tighter.

A laugh escapes his mouth. “As I said, it’s yours to keep.”

“Good.”