Say the Word(10)

“Not gonna return the favor?” he asked me, nodding down at his hand, which was still hanging outstretched in the air between us.

“Do you always feel the need to torture your victims with chit-chat after nearly running them down in the street?” I asked quietly, watching the rain droplets trickle in slow paths down the windshield.

“Fine, common courtesy be damned.” Sebastian laughed, shifting the car into drive. “But it’s all right, you don’t have to tell me. I already know your name, Lux.”

That had my attention. I swiveled my head around to look at him.

“Ah, now I’ve intrigued you.” He smiled over at me. “Relax, I’m not a stalker. You’re in my Latin class right?”

I nodded, my eyes still narrowed on him.

“Kind of hard to miss a name like ‘Lux,’” he pointed out, shrugging. “Especially in Latin.”

I didn’t respond, and he fell silent. We drove for about five minutes, the rain falling on the windshield in a soothing patter that soon had me fighting off waves of drowsiness. I’d gotten only a few hours of sleep the night before, as I’d been up most of the night working a late shift at Minnie’s, the local diner where I picked up a few shifts each week. By the time I’d dragged myself home, it had been past midnight, and I’d still had two hours of homework to get through before finally collapsing into bed.

“Not a big talker, huh?”

My eyes, which were drooping down to half-mast, snapped back open at the sound of his voice. “Sorry to disappoint,” I mumbled, moving my hands up and down to rub warmth back into my frozen arms.

“Oh, shit, I really am an *,” he muttered, reaching forward to flip on the heat. Hot air exploded out of the vents, immediately warming me. Before I knew what was happening, he’d pulled off onto the shoulder, put the car in park, and was shrugging out of his tan cable knit sweater, leaving only a thin t-shirt on his torso. “Here,” he said, offering the sweater to me.

“Oh, no.” I blushed, staring at the garment with wide eyes. “That’s not necessary, really.”

“Just take the damn sweater, ” he ordered, clearly not used to being told no. “You’re shivering.”

I nodded, meeting his eyes fully for the first time as I reached hesitantly across the console to take the sweater. His gaze was intent as it moved over my face, studying my features as though I were a puzzle he wanted to solve.

I turned away, stripped off my waterlogged jacket and tossed it on top of my backpack, leaving me in a damp black t-shirt that was plastered to my torso like a second skin. Leaning back in my seat, I glanced over at him and caught him blatantly staring at my chest.

Boys were so predictable — and apparently boobs were boobs, regardless of social class boundaries.

Rolling my eyes, I smiled at the thought as I slipped his sweater over my head. It was still warm from his body, and it smelled like him – a heady masculine cocktail of aftershave and expensive cologne. Automatically, I inhaled deeply, committing his scent to memory. His cologne probably cost more than I made all week working at the diner, and I would’ve resented that fact on principle had it not smelled so goddamn good.

Plus, he’d given me his sweater. I was bitchy, but not unreasonable.

I turned to him and our eyes met, a look of understanding passing between us. “Thanks,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say. Several moments passed in silence, the air between us becoming charged, electric, with each passing second. I wanted to tear my eyes from his to break the intensity of the moment, afraid he was seeing straight through me with that unwavering stare.

After a small eternity, Sebastian nodded, swallowing roughly before reaching across the center console. As his hand extended into my space, I forced myself not to flinch back from his touch. Our eyes still locked, I felt his fingers thread softly through the thick strands of hair at the base of my neck. His fingers skimmed the sensitive skin there, gently tugging my long hair up from where it was trapped beneath his bulky sweater. When his arm lifted, the damp waves tumbled free and fell midway down my back.

With unhurried fingers, he skimmed through the strands from the crown of my head down to the tips of each curl, his eyes following the movement of his hand as if mesmerized. I inhaled sharply when his fingers dropped down to brush the small of my back, but didn’t pull away from his touch, entranced by the strange intimacy of a moment between strangers.

An involuntary exhale of air slipped between my lips, breaking the silence. Sebastian abruptly dropped his hand, his eyes seemed to clear of the haze, and he cleared his throat as he turned back to face the road. Pulling off the shoulder, we drove in silence for another five minutes before he spoke again. I didn’t know what he was thinking – I wasn’t even sure what I was thinking. All I knew was that my skin still tingled where his fingers had grazed, and I could still feel the weight of his eyes tracing over my features, as though their path had burned into my skin and marked me deep beneath the surface.

I tried to slow my racing heart as I watched the trees fly by outside the passenger window. Soft classical music – an intriguing choice for a high school boy – whispered through his speakers and lulled us back into safer waters.

“So are you going to tell me where I’m driving anytime soon or do I have to guess?” He laughed, trying to lighten the inexplicably heavy mood. “Not that I mind, really. Just wondering whether you had a destination, or were out walking in the rain for fun.”