The Desire Variable - Vol. I

【24】Sweet Ride

It eventually arrived, and he moved to the side a little, inviting me to get in first. So chivalry wasn't dead, as it turned out. He soon joined me, pushed two buttons, and I spent the next few seconds trying to look at anything but him.

"Is it going to be okay for you to get home?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure the busses do their routes until midnight or something."

"Are you sure? I could drop you off if you want," he proposed. Although the offer was both generous and tempting, there was no way I would sit with him in his car for over ten minutes. Nope, not happening.

"I'm good," I responded. He nodded and returned his attention to the very boring and unfascinating doors of the car. I did the same. Thankfully, we quickly reached the lobby. Those elevators sure were fast when it didn't stop at every other level for people to get in or out.

Before I moved for the exit, I turned around, forcing a smile on my face. "I'll see you on Monday."

"You too. Thank you again for your time," he answered. Seriously, I would never get used to this man being polite and cordial. After a few seconds of surprised muteness, I stepped into the lobby before turning around. I looked at him until the doors closed, and a sigh of relief emptied my lungs.

Phew... I'd done it! I'd survived an entire evening by his side, with no spontaneous combustion or throwing myself at him. I needed an underwear change, though. I gave myself a pat on the shoulder – a little reward for my inner strength – and walked to the exit.

Oh, what a surprise. It was raining again. With a groan, I removed my backpack from my shoulder to look for the tiny umbrella I usually kept in it. Fuck, it wasn't here. A few seconds of intense thinking later, I could see myself leaving it by the entrance at home, to let it dry before putting it back in my bag.

Glimpsing at the outside, I tried to determine just how wet exactly I'd be by the time I'd reach the bus stop. It wasn't raining that much, so with a fast pace, I should be able to get there without catching my death.

Finding some courage, I pushed through the revolving doors and exited the building. I walked at a quick pace, protecting my computer bag the best I could, desperate to reach the bus stop before I was soaked to the bones. The streets were utterly empty, not a car or person in sight. I was reaching the corner of the building, when a sleek gray car, a Mercedes halfway between a sedan and a sports car, slowed down next to me. For an instant, I panicked, uncertain how to act. Just as I was about to pick up the pace, the passenger's window opened. I kept looking forward, determined to not encourage whoever was about to address me.

"Come in, Andrea. I'll drop you off at your bus stop."

I recognized Alexander's voice, and keen relief relaxed my tense body. It didn't last long, as I then thought anyone else would have been better than him.

"I'm good," I answered, preferring the cold rain.

"Don't be ridiculous. Get in."

I didn't like being commanded to do things. Even more when it was him. I stopped in my tracks to turn to him, and he hit the brakes, stopping too. We did a short staring battle, and I tried to remind myself why I couldn't get in his car. Maybe I was overreacting a little bit. It was harmless. I'd get it, he'd drive the three hundred yards separating us from the bus stop, drop me off, and I'd be rid of him in under two minutes. Somehow, I had the feeling that arguing with him would take longer than that.

Mumbling a half-protest, I took my bag down and went for the handle of his door. I quickly sat down on the comfortable seat, holding my bag in front of me, and stared at the darkening street before us. "Thanks," I said, without a single hint of contentment.

"You take your bus at Pike Street?" he asked, turning his face toward me. I nodded, still observing the windshield wipers chase away the drops of rains, over and over.

He switched gears, and we were off. Even though I knew next to nothing when it came to cars, I could tell this one was of phenomenal quality. The muffled sound of the engine was low and incredibly pleasing to the ear, and the seat was very comfortable. Even the sound of the blinkers sounded luxurious, for God's sake.

Alexander's driving was pleasant and experienced, and I sometimes glimpsed at his hands smoothly gliding over the steering wheel. I couldn't help but wonder at how those strong hands, that seemed so soft right now, would feel on my skin.

What stage of craziness is it when you wish you were a steering wheel, already?

Although I'd wanted our imposed proximity to end quickly, I was somehow disappointed when we reached my bus stop. He parked just in front of it, and as I was about to get out, he stopped me, putting his hand over my forearm. The simple contact sent shivers through my arm, and I looked at him, wondering what he wanted from me. Without a word, he pointed toward something out of my window, and I looked for what it was.

The electronic sign, where the bus times were usually displayed, only read three fateful words: 'STRIKE! SERVICE INTERRUPTED.'

Defeated, I let out a sigh and rested my head back. "I can drive you home," he kindly offered.

For the umpteenth time this evening, he was showing some unusually amiable behavior, and I almost wanted to grab his shoulder and shake him out of it. Everything was so much simpler when I viewed him as a jerk. If my body was attracted like this when he was his rude and arrogant self, how would it behave if I got the idea he was actually a nice guy?

Refusing to accept more of his temporary kindness, I shook my head, searching for a better solution. Maybe I could request an Uber? Yes, that was the best solution. I wiggled to take my phone out of my back pocket and turned it on. After I accidentally opened UberEATS out of habit, I quickly opened the actual Uber app. Immediately after it had loaded, a message in red popped up as soon as it loaded. 'Service overloaded, expect delays.' Irritated, I let out an inaudible mumble. Of course, with the bus drivers' strike, everyone in Seattle was resorting to Uber or similar options.

"I really don't mind," Lex insisted, seemingly entertained by my misfortune. When I turned to him, there was a shadow of amusement on his face.

"I don't want you to make a detour for me," I pretended, knowing it truly wasn't the problem at hand.

"Where do you live?"

"Fairmount Park," I answered, hoping he lived on the other side of town.

"That's good for me. What's your exact address?"

I gave it to him, and he repeated it after calling the car's AI's name. Ok, this car was awesome. On the screen in front of us, the AI proposed a few routes, and Lex picked one. Without further ado, he followed the instructions the GPS gave him, and we fended through the nearly-there night.