Death of Me

05. MAYA BENNETT

Exhaustion gnaws at me as I repeatedly dial her number. Each unanswered ring stokes my irritation, and I mutter curses under my breath.

"Come on, Sarah, pick up!" I grumble.

When her voicemail greets me for the fifth time, I end the call with a sigh and dial Calla's. My heart leaps when she answers on the first ring.

" Calla!" I practically exclaim, relieved to hear her voice.

"Hey, what's going on?"

I don't waste a second and launch into an explanation, my words tumbling out in a rush. "Girl, my car broke down in the storm. I'm stuck on Maple Street -"

"That's not far from your house -"

"I know! I know, but I can't make the walk in this rain. I need someone to pick me up please."

There's a brief pause on the other end, "Umm Maya, I had to step out of town for an emergency. Swears, I tried calling you earlier. I wanted to give you heads-up, but you declined my call."

I close my eyes, realization washing over me like a cold wave. My phone had indeed rung while I was still at the office. I had declined the call without even glancing at the screen, assuming it was something I could attend to later. Guilt tugs at me, and I apologize softly. "I didn't know it was you, Calla. I'm sorry."

Calla's soft laugh comes through a line. "It's okay, Maya. These things happen. So, what are you going to do? Can you call a mechanic?"

"I don't have a contact. To be honest, Calla, my brain is fried right now. It's been a rough day."

She suggests that I brave the walk through the rain, but I quickly dismiss the idea. The thought of leaving my car behind is unnerving. I've heard too many stories of disappearing car parts from vehicles left overnight.

"It's fine, maybe the rain will ease up soon."

I finish speaking with Calla and end the call, then glance around, searching for any sign of help. And that's when I see it-a pair of full-beam headlights in the distance.

The approaching car draws closer, its headlights cutting through the relentless rain and casting an eerie glow. Instead of passing by, it pulls to a stop beside mine. My heart races as I watch, unable to make out the driver through the rain-smeared windshield.

Then, the driver's side window begins to slide down and a muscular hand emerges from the rolled-down window, gesturing for me to do the same.

I reach for the control to lower my window. The glass glides down, revealing the face of the person in the other car. And there, in the dim glow of the car's interior lights, I meet the gaze of familiar dark eyes.

Freakin' Wheeler!

He stares back at me, his eyes wide with surprise. "Ms Bennett? Are you all right?"

I really hate for him to see me like this."Yes, Mr Wheeler." I reply, but the cold zips through me just then, making my voice crack. "Don't worry. My car broke down, but I'm fine -"

Before I can finish, he steps out of his car, umbrella in hand, and walks over to my door. "Get out here." He gestures for me to exit my car.

Huh?

"What are you -"

"Don't make me lift you out, Ms Bennett," he drawls, "Judging from what I see, I'm guessing your car overheated. So, unless you plan to carry your car on your head, it's not taking you anywhere."

He might be right, but that tone of his. I hate it. Almost makes me want to walk barefoot in the rain all the way to my house.

Almost...

"Fine." I gather my things and step out, locking the door behind me. He holds the umbrella over me and I huddle beneath it, feeling a strange mixture of vulnerability and gratitude.

"Don't worry about your car," he says, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I'll have it towed to my mechanic."

His words and actions catch me off guard.

He's still an asshole... I remind myself.

Mr Wheeler opens the passenger door for me and I fly in, letting out a sigh of bliss as warmth soaks through me from the heated seat.

We sit in silence for the first few seconds as he starts the engine and begins to drive. The interior of the car is impeccably clean, and there's a subtle, enticing scent that fills the air. I inhale deeply, savouring the intriguing fragrance that surrounds me, a mixture of leather and something uniquely his.

Breaking the silence, he finally speaks. "What's your address?"

I provide him with the details of my home, a quaint house not far from Redwood Ranch. His reaction surprises me as his eyebrows lift in mild astonishment. "You live close to Redwood?"

I nod, slightly taken aback by his reaction. "Yes, why do you look surprised?"

He seems to consider this for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. "Okay."

"And where do you live, Mr. Wheeler?"

His lips quirk up in a small, almost secretive smile. "I live at Redwood Ranch."

Wait what?!

"We're neighbours?"

He doesn't reply.

Nevermind that. Our houses are separated by about a mile of grazing land. I don't know if that still counts as being neighbours. Redwood Ranch is the largest and most prestigious ranch in our town. It's also the home of the finest horseflesh in town.

"Wow," I finally manage to say, unable to hide my awe.

He doesn't offer much of a response, simply shrugging as if it's just another place to him. After all it's his house, his ranch, his land.

Ugh! Too much perfection for one person. I hope he has a tiny dick.

The rain continues to pour heavily as Mr Wheelerdrives me home. We pass the turn that lead to his ranch, and I estimate it'll be another few minutes before we reach my house.

Finally, we arrive at my house. It's a cozy, two-story structure with a wraparound porch and a swing that overlooks the front yard. I can see the soft glow of lights through the windows.

Forgot to turn those off.

"Thank you, Mr Wheeler," I say as I prepare to exit the car.

He turns to me, his gaze holding mine. "Please call me Luke . You may have the umbrella too." He reaches for the umbrella in the back seat and hands it to me.

"Thanks! I'll bring it to work tomorrow."

"No problem at all."

I reach for my seatbelt to unfasten it just as Luke leans in to unlock the seatbelt too. Our fingers brush and I inhale sharply at the zing that courses through me. The warmth from his breath caresses my face. I feel drawn in, as if under a spell, and I lean closer, my heart pounding in my chest.

But suddenly, Luke pulls back, jolting me back to reality as the connection breaks.

"Night," I mumble, cheeks flushing. I scramble to climb out of the car, barely pausing to close the door before breaking into a light jog.

The rain beats unrelentingly on me, but I can't feel it. All I can feel is confusion, exhilaration and something else I can't pinpoint. It is when I get to the shelter of my porch that I realize I just ran through the rain with a closed umbrella in my hand, and I finally put a meaning to the other feeling: It is the feeling of being watched.

I can sense his gaze on me, trailing over every inch of me through the see-through material of my white dress.

And though it shouldn't feel good, it does.