Chapter 19: It’s Just You
Summer’s P
POV
“Since it’s your treat, Miss Taylor, it is naturally your choice is deep voice carried just a hint of am
I fought the urge to fidget with my bag strap. God, what do you even sugerat to same like Brandon Stark? The places/milly rat probably don’t even register on bis radar. “As long as you don’t mind…” My voice trailed off uncertainly.
Something flickered in his expression – understanding, maybe, or something deeper. “Miss Taylor, you seem to have some misconceptions about me. His Tone softened slightly. I’m not as unapproachable as you might think,” He made an elegant gesture toward the street. “Please.”
The way he said
– like he was trying to put me at ease while simultaneously maintaining that oura of absolute control that seemed to come as naturally to him as breathing. How does he do that? Mele en a dople word sound like both my invitation and a command?
To
my surprise, instead of the imposing Bentley from our first meeting, a sleek but relatively understated luxury car waited at the curb. Is he… trying to make me feel more comfortable? The thought made something warm flutter in my chest,
Brandon moved with that predatory grace to open the passenger door for me, waiting with surprising patience as 1 settled into the butter–soft leather seat. The door closed with a soft click that somehow managed to sound expensive, and I watched through the window as he rounded the hood to the driver’s side. Even mulking to u car, he moves Uke he owns the whole street. Which, given this is Mandation, he probably does.
He slid into the driver’s seat with fluid elegance, the movement drawing my attention to the perfect cut of his sult. Stop staring at him like a teenager with a mel, I scolded myself, quickly looking away.
“Miss Taylor, please direct me.
“116th Street, thank you.” I kept my voice steady, professional. Just because he’s being nice doesn’t mean anything has changed. He’s still Brandon Stark, and I’m STAT…
“Near Columbia?” His
question interrupted my spiral of self–doubt.
I turned to him in surprise, catching that familiar glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Miss Taylor seems to have forgotten – I attended Columbia as well.” tight. Of course he did. The reminder of our shared alma mater somehow made the space between us feel both smaller and more charged. The soft glow from the dashboard caught the sharp angles of his face as he programmed the navigation system, and I had to force myself to look away.
We rode in comfortable silence for a while, the lights of Manhattan sliding past the windows like star. The car’s interior smelled faintly of leather and his
“It’s been years since I’ve been back to Columbia,” he said suddenly, his deep voice thoughtful. “I wonder how much it’s ch
it’s changed.”
“You haven’t vinted?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, genuine curiosity perriding my usual caution. I’m the sentimental type- whether its people, places, or things, I get attached. I thought about my own habits, how I made a paint to trucks and small restaurants nearby to relive those carefice college days.
Wait several times a year, always stopping by the campus food
His expression shifted slightly, becoming more guarded. “Work keeps me busy. Besides, I’m not one to dwell on the past.”
The way he looked at me as he said it like the words carried some deeper meaning – made the window, trying to gather my thoughts. “Everyone has a past.”
my heart skip a beat. I turned to watch the city lights blur på
past
True.” His voice took on that velvet soft quality that never failed to make any skin prickle. “But letting it control your present and future? That don t you think7”
at a mistake,
“Mr. Stark, you should be a lawyer. Or maybe a therapist. I tried to inject some lightness into my voice, desperate to break the intensity of One perfect eyebrow aguded slightly. “Oh? Why in that?”
of the mutent
I studied his profile in the passing streetlights, gathering my thoughts. Your way with words,” I said finally. “You have this way of making complicated things sound simple. When you talk about the past or the future… you make it sound like everything has a clear solution. Like life’s big problems are just…….. puzzles waiting to be solved. God, I’m rambling.
But something about the quiet intimacy of the car, the way his presence seemed to fill the space without being overwhelming, made me want to keep talking. “It’s… comforting, actually. Even when you’re being infuriatingly cryptic.”
Chapter 19 It’s Just You
His lips curved into that dangerous half smile I was starting to know ton well. “Life is a series of puzzles, Miss Taylor His deep voice carried an edge of intensity that made my skin prickle. The key is knowing which ones are worth solving.” The way his dark eyes flickered to me made it clear this wasn’t just about metaphors anymore.
“Do you always be like this? The words came of
out more vulnerable than I’d intended, “I mean… when you are comforting someone else?
His fingers tapped a gentle rhythm against the steering wheel as he considered his response. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a weight that made my herath catch, “No. There is no always.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent, those dark eyes focused on the road ahead. The city lights played across his sharp features, highlighting the perfect line of his jaw, God, I hate his puse.
“And, there is no someone else. He cut me off, his voice carrying that note of absolute certainty I was starting to associate with him. “It’s just you.”
