Page 6
He sighs. “Dais, I get the feeling you’re the kind of woman who hates accepting help, and I appreciate that about you, truly I do. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you wander around the city alone at this time of night. All kinds of creeps come out after dark.”
I side-eye him. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“I live not far from here, so yeah, I do.”
I arch a brow. “So, you’re one of the creeps you just mentioned?”
He barks out a low laugh, and I hate the way it makes the corners of my mouth threaten to lift. “Where do you live?”
“Out west.”
“How far out west?”
I blow out a puff of air. “I’m not giving you my address …”
“Nolan … my name is Nolan, and I’m not asking for it. I just want to get a feel for how far you need to travel.”
“Smithfield.”
He blows out a long whistle through his teeth. “Not happening, darlin’.”
“Excuse me?”
He ignores me as he slips his hand into his pocket, pulls out his phone and moves his thumb over the screen. “You’d need to catch a bus, two different trains, and probably another bus at the other end.”
“So what.”
He glances up from his phone screen and smiles. “The Uber’s on its way.”
I purse my lips in frustration. This man is insufferable. “I can’t afford an Uber, Nolan.”
“I never asked you to pay for it, Daisy.”
“I’m not letting you pay for it either.”
“It’s the least I can do after …” He gestures to my hands with his chin.
“I can’t afford to repay the fare … not for a while, anyway. I’m still finding my feet.”
He frowns slightly, studying me like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite solve. “You don’t need to pay me back, darlin’.”
God, I wish he’d stop calling me that because I don’t exactly hate it. In the space of a few hours, he’s shown me more kindness than my fiancé did in the months before I left.
Five minutes later, the Uber pulls up to the kerb. Nolan walks ahead, opens the rear door, and sweeps a hand towards the car, silently inviting me to climb in.
“Thanks, I guess,” I say, ducking under his arm and sliding into the back seat.
He leans down and makes eye contact with me. “You guess?”
What does he want me to say? Thank you for the unwanted kiss that started this whole disaster in the first place. Because somehow, I don’t think that’s the gratitude he’s looking for.
He closes the back door, and I wait for him to step back so the car can pull away, but to my horror, he climbs into the passenger seat.
My mouth falls open. “What are you doing?”
He turns, glancing over his shoulder. “Getting in the car. What’s it look like?”
“No, I mean why are you getting in the car?” I gesture between us, my brows pulling together. “You’re not coming home with me.”
