Page 25 of Dangerous Attraction

The vibrations from the car, and the heat blasting in my face help me relax, but my stomach still quivers as my eyes watch the trees blur outside the window.

We sit in silence, making our way down the winding roads that lead into town.

My gaze occasionally drifts to his hand on the gear stick, marveling at the way the inked skull ripples each time he tightens his grip and changes gear.

As we near the town, I allow my eyes to drift to his other hand on the wheel, trying to catch a glimpse of the tattoos on that hand.

I'm not sure why I'm curious. I've never really found myself interested in tattoos. Since seeing Reeve's, though—and possibly also due to spending time at the clubhouse today with everyone else who seems to have tattoos—I find myself intrigued.

Lights flash through the car as we drive deeper into town, and the black ink on his skin is illuminated for a short moment.

A rose covers the top of his right hand, and the word 'love' is written across the tops of his fingers, one letter on each finger beneath his knuckles.

Dropping my gaze back to his other hand, I spot the letter 'H' on his pointer finger, but I can't see the other three letters. Not without leaning forward in my seat and making it obvious, anyway.

The car slows, and my eyes dart to the window.

We pass by shops and parked cars, the streetlights shining down on the sidewalks.

The red flashing lights of the diner are up ahead, and the thought of seeing my best friend has my muscles loosening immediately.

Reeve pulls into one of the empty parking spots in front of the diner, and as soon as he pulls the handbrake up, I unbuckle my belt, my hand flying to the handle.

"Thank you," I mutter, then open the door and climb out.

Before I shut the door, he leans over the center console, sweeping his hand through his hair as his eyes peer up at me.

"Are you getting a lift home?"

His question has me frozen in place. My hand is on the glass window, my bag slipping halfway off my shoulder while I stare at him, puzzled.

"I, uh, yeah—" I shake my head, looking away from his inquisitive eyes. "Yeah. My friend will drop me home."

He stays quiet, so I chance another look his way, and when our eyes connect, his lips lift the tiniest amount. He finally nods, then leans back in his seat.

Stepping back, I push the door closed, turn away from the car, then walk toward the diner in a bemused state.

I think that was the most confusing encounter I've ever experienced.

When I reach the door of the diner, I glance over my shoulder as I push my way inside, and see Reeve still sitting in his car, his eyes still fixated on me.

He dips his head when he catches me watching him, then starts reversing.

"Emery's already ordered for you, my love," Mabel says from behind the counter, breaking me out of the fogginess clouding my brain.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Uh, thanks."

Moving through the almost empty diner, I slide into the small booth across from Emery, immediately grabbing the shake on the table and slurping half of it down.

"So, you wanna tell me who that hot hunk was? Or are we going to pretend like I didn't see anything and just talk about my boring day at college?"

Sighing, I lean on the table, dropping my chin into my hand.

"That's Reeve," I tell her, trying to find a way to stall while I figure out just how much I should tell her. "I met him at work."

She frowns, then taps her fingers against the table, dragging her eyes over my face.

"So, you got a job?"