Page 28 of The Suitcase Swap

Mike was a mess. His body strained for one thing, his mind for another, and his heart sat in the middle, abstaining from this particular vote. He didn’t really know what he wanted. Or maybe it was more that he did know what he wanted, but felt bad about wanting it? Either way, he didn’t feel good about dragging Sophie into it, but he also wasn’t comfortable with putting Sophie in a stranger’s car and sending her on her way. They’d both had several drinks. What if he got her a rideshare, tucked her into it, and she never made it back to her flat? He couldn’t handle that.

Which meant they were now sharing a very silent, very awkward ride together, the air so thick with tension he could practically scoop it like ice cream. She wouldn’t look at him. Was she angry? Hurt? He clasped the back of his neck with one hand.Tremblay, once again, you’re an absolute bell end.

The driver was chatty. Mike responded, not really paying attention to what he was saying, his mind whirring and cycling through various levels of despair. Kissing Sophie had felt . . . amazing. There was no other word for it. If they hadn’t been in a public park – and he hadn’t panicked – he was pretty sure they’d both be half naked by now.

Chemistry. Pure, unfiltered, high-octane chemistry. They had it. He couldn’t argue otherwise. Sex, if they decided to go that far, would be the kind of sex people wrote songsabout. And while his body was thrumming, demanding he do exactly that, the rest of him was a tangled confusion of fear, panic and guilt.

He’d had sex since he lost his wife. It had been nice, generally. Fun, but more like taking care of a chore than anything really passionate. He’d never thought he’d find anything like he and Tara had managed when they were together, but while kissing Sophie was very different, it was on the same level.

And it was fucking with his head.

The driver came to a stop, Sophie’s building looming above them. Mike paid the driver, climbing out behind her without thinking. He just knew he wouldn’t feel right until he delivered her to her door.

She watched him, her expression unreadable. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Seeing you home.’

She shook her head. ‘You really don’t have to do that.’

‘Yes,’ Mike said quietly, ‘I do.’ Her expression stayed carefully blank, which he understood, but her eyes were sad, which he hated. ‘Please, let me at least see you to your door, Sophie.’

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Suit yourself, but you’re being ridiculous.’

‘No argument there,’ Mike said. Because he was being ridiculous, but he wouldn’t feel better until she was safely home.

They took the lift up, Sophie silent, her mouth downturned. Mike felt like shit, which was a weirdly comfortable feeling. He wasusedto feeling like shit.

The lift dinged, letting them out on her floor. Mike followed her, hovering behind her as she wobbled on her heels. He waited as she got out her keys and opened her door.

The door clicked and she stepped out of her shoes before crossing the threshold. She tossed them inside, looking up at him, not saying anything.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do, but he didn’t want to leave it like this, either. ‘Sophie—’

She shook her head. ‘Not sure I want to hear whatever you’re going to say in that tone.’

He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘Fair enough. Despite—’ He stopped, reorganizing his thoughts. ‘I had a good time tonight.’

She scrunched up her nose and for fuck’s sake, why was that so cute? ‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I really did, but I shouldn’t have . . .’ He ran a hand through his hair, flustered. Why were words so bloody difficult? He had a lot of them running through his head, but the only ones that came out were, ‘I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m so sorry.’

Sophie paled.

As usual, he was making it worse. ‘That wasn’t . . .’ He had no idea how he was going to finish that sentence.

Sophie shook her head. ‘Wow, okay, please stop. I would pay fifty pounds to not have this conversation right now. Let’s just leave it, please.’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry.’

She handed him back his jacket. ‘Here.’

He took it, lips pressed tight, swimming in misery. This was why he didn’t date. This feeling right here.

She sighed, suddenly looking tired. ‘Thank you for the dancing.’

He nodded, miserable.

Then she very quietly shut the door and Mike stood there feeling like the worst human on earth.

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