She folded into herself—head against the window, tapping her thigh until she caught herself. Her perfume rose with every fidget, warm and gentle, trailing in the space between them.

“You don’t seem fine,” he said, voice cutting through the silence.

She exhaled, not turning to look at him.

“Well, then read the room.”

She paused, the reality of her riding in his personal vehicle hitting her.

“And why are you in your personal vehicle, Brooks?”

“The same reason you called my personal phone.”

Her stomach tightened. That wasn’t what she meant to ask, but it was exactly what she needed to hear.

He wasn’t trying to be professional. He was trying to therefor her.

“I still need the car towed.”

“I know that, woman.”

“So why aren’t you in a tow truck?”

He laughed, slow and quiet. Like he'd been waiting for her to push just enough.

“If you must know, I decided to send my boy,Marco, to get your car. I figured I’d take care of you. Cool?”

She turned her head slowly, studying him.

He turned just enough to catch her gaze, steady, waiting for her to meet him there. Waiting for her to agree.

Her expression shifted.

“Cool,” she replied. Brooks nodded once, glancing back at the road. The slight smile that he caught caused him to shake his head. He hadn’t missed the way she shifted in her seat trying to process his words.

“Don’t do too much,” he said, voice smooth.

She was spiraling, and he could feel it. He didn’t like that one bit. He believed she was better than this. Deserved better than this.

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it quickly. She decided not to argue. Because she knew exactly what he meant. She wasn’t used to being handled, with care or with intention. She wasn’t used to being able to sit back and just be. She wasn’t used to a man like him.

Her own husband would never. Could never.

Brooks knew she was about to do way too much and make this a bigger deal than it had to be. She should’ve known he wasn’t about to send a stranger to come get his sister’s friend. He wasn’t that type of nigga.

Blake would have his damn head on a platter if she were to find out. And he had a feeling that the night was only gonna get rougher. She needed a friend, and he didn’t mind being her friend if only for the night.

“Taylor,” Brooks said finally, his deep voice careful, measured.

“Don’t.” Taylor’s voice came out sharper thanintended. “I know how this goes. You’ll run straight to Blake with whatever I say, and I don’t need that right now. I just want to get home, shower, and sleep.”

He glanced at her, brows furrowing at her snapping at him and at the lack of trust. He could keep her secrets. He could be her confidante. She was treating him like he was some gossiping ass dude.

“That’s what you think of me? After all these years of knowing me? I gave you my word.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” she muttered, voice faint now, but still weighed down. “About anybody or anything.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them, heavy with a truth that had less to do with Brooks and everything to do with how broken her world had become. She’d spent years hiding her husband’s mess. Tonight, she didn’t have the energy to fake it or deal alone.