“You really don’t have to,” she said. “I live, like, a thousand miles away from here.”
“It’s just Brooklyn. And it doesn’t matter. I have a car and a driver, and you don’t need to take a taxi.”
I caught the secret look Axel and Cora shared as I pushed my chair in. Cora was perched on Axel’s lap as he finished up with the check. “Good night, guys,” I told them. “Excellent dinner as usual.”
“Goodnight.” Cora waved her fingers at us, the grin on her face all too knowing.
“Are you coming back to the penthouse tonight?” Axel asked with a wink.
“Of course,” I said, thankful Jessa had already started for the door. “Don’t be a fucking weirdo. I’m just giving her a ride.”
Axel gave me an exaggerated wink, and I flipped him off before following Jessa out of the restaurant. Outside, the November night air was cold enough to cause Jessa to cross her arms over her chest. I fought the urge to wrap my arm around her and suggest we go turn on the fireplace at my penthouse, maybe turn on a crappy movie and test out the faux bearskin rug a time or two. That wasn’t what a man trying to stay on the distant and unattached side of the line would do. Hell, I wouldn’t have even suggested that with Harper. But here with Jessa, the idea was practically all I could hear.
My car pulled up a moment later, and I paused, wondering if I’d gather the courage to send it away—at least to get me another half hour with Jessa.
“Is this Legs again?” she asked.
“Yes,” I admitted with a laugh. My conviction wavered, and I pulled open the back door for her. No Bearskin & Chill tonight. And probably not ever. We’d shared crème brûlée—that was enough for my scarred little heart.
“Do I get the story of his name this time or do I have to log a few more rides for that privilege?”
“You need to complete a minimum of ten rides before you’ll receive that story,” I teased, watching as she stepped up into the back seat of the SUV. The flex of her calves snagged my attention as she scooted across the leather so I could join her. Once we were safely enclosed in the vehicle, my internal clock began ticking.
We had roughly twenty minutes before we hit Jessa’s apartment. Twenty minutes to figure out if she felt the same as me, dissolve her walls, kiss her fucking face off, and fuck like rabbits.
Totally doable.
Because that’s all it had to be: a drunk one-off. At least that’s what made sense to my drunk brain. If I couldn’t agree to anything sustained or deep with Jessa, then why couldn’t we just fuck once? It made so much sense here in the darkness of the car, as the lights of Manhattan flashed past our windows.
“Thanks for the ride again, Legs,” she said, leaning toward the front seat. I caught the curve of her hip in the golden city light streaming in through the window. I wet my bottom lip, fingers curling from the urge to palm that curve for myself.
“Anytime, Jessa. You’re one of my new favorites to drive around.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked in that good-natured, sociable way of hers. “And why’s that?”
“Well, you’re just a sweetheart,” Legs said, his Brooklyn accent almost garish in the quiet car.
“Oh no,you’rethe sweetheart, Legs,” Jessa gushed. “Now tell me, who’s yourleastfavorite to drive around? Don’t tell me it’s Damian, either, because that’s a given.”
I laughed despite the dig. “I’m not even mad, because you’re probably right, Jessa.”
She reached back and swatted my knee. I caught the smile on her lips.
“Nah, I can’t say that,” Legs said.
“Okay fine, don’t tell us the worst ever, but just give meoneperson you didn’t like driving around. Come on, I need the gossip to stay alive. I’m like a gossip vampire.”
Legs laughed, scrubbing at his chin as he thought. “All right. I got one. That Harper lady.”
His words landed like a blow, though he couldn’t have known how timely his comment was. I clenched my teeth as Jessa turned to me, nodding.
“I had an experience with Harper today for the first time,” Jessa told Legs. “She made it very clear that I was to only call herMs. Bennett.”
“Yeah, she pulled that same shit with me too,” Legs said with a laugh.
“She’s not always like that,” I said, though I wasn’t sure why I was defending her. Maybe to preserve their good opinions ofme.
“No judgement, Damian,” Jessa said, lifting her palms. “You do you.”