Page 21 of Not That Ridiculous

He grinned at me. We both knew how it would go for Craig if he tried chatting me up.

And it wasgoodthat Kevin thought Ray was nice and I wasn’t. That was exactly how I wanted Kevin to see me: not a nice guy.

After I broke down in great detail the difference between a flat white, a latte, and a cappuccino while Kevin listened and made interested noises, the rest of the drive home was quiet. I stared out of the window, feeling my poor muscles tighten up one by one after all the unnatural activity I’d put them through, and wondering if I’d be able to move tomorrow.

Kevin, meanwhile, was doing that thing where he existed in his calm, steady Kevin-world. He drove with economical grace and remained unflustered as we battled our way through the hideous tangle of traffic cones, angry drivers, and temporary traffic lights that had turned the biggest roundabout in town into an absolute horror show. Every now and then, he hummed along quietly to a song on the radio.

I’d never been the kind of person to fill an awkward silence with unnecessary chitchat. I was quite happy to let an awkward silence drag on and on. But this silence wasn’t awkward. It was warm and peaceful in the cab of Kevin’s car, and sparkling clean. He clearly took great pride in it. There wasn’t a stray travel mug, half-drunk bottle of Coke, discarded hoodie or chocolate wrapper to be seen.

I made a guilty mental note to set aside some time on Sunday to empty out and vacuum my car. While I was at it, I could stand to run it through the car wash, too.

There was no reason whatsoever for me to feel as comfortable as I did, and yet I relaxed into the seat bit by bit, until I nearly nodded off. I caught Kevin sending me an amused glance once or twice. I didn’t challenge him on it. I didn’t care. Sore muscles aside, I felt amazing.

I surreptitiously touched two fingers to the pulse in my neck. It was a slow, steady throb. Huh. Either Jasper was right and the gym really was all it was cracked up to be for stress relief, or this was down to hanging out in Kevin’s calm presence.

Kevin’s calm presence, I amended, when there was no chance he was going to suddenly drop his shorts in front of me, or put his hands on me. I hadn’t felt anything like relaxed when those things had happened.

I turned my head to look at him.

He smiled at once, which surprised me. As far as I could tell, he’d been focused on the road.

“What?” he said quietly.

“Nothing.”

He shot me a quick look, one eyebrow up.

“You’re very chilled out,” I said. “That’s all.”

He grunted. “Got my workout in. You should see me when I haven’t been able to make it to the gym for a day or two.” He checked the wing mirror for traffic and pulled past a parked bus picking up passengers. “Be so wound up, I’d fuck a hole in the ground.”

Every last calm feeling exited my body.

“What?” Kevin grinned at me. “Don’t you ever get like that?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Think I’ve got a higher than average libido.”

I’ll say.

I spent the rest of the journey fending off thoughts of Kevin’s higher than average libido, and was relieved when we finally arrived at my house. Kevin pulled up at the bottom of the drive, put the handbrake on, and hopped out.

I reached behind me to get my gym bag from the back seat, then froze when he appeared at the passenger-side window and opened the door for me. What…?

He waited with an expectant smile.

I shooed him back with a flap of my hands and he obligingly made room for me to step down. As soon as I was clear of the car, he slammed the door, beeped the locks, and wandered up my drive.

I slung the bag over my shoulder and jogged after him. While I dug around for my keys, he stood with hands on hips, casting a critical eye over the front of the house.

“Hmm.” He wandered off the drive to go and look at the garage door. He reached up and ran a hand along the top, gave the bottom a gentle kick, then wandered back over to where I was still fumbling for my keys. He paused before stepping carefully over the piece of paving slab that had crumbled away from the doorstep. “Hmm,” he said again.

Ah. For a moment there, I’d been confused, wondering if he was aware that he was treating me like some sort of date by driving me home and walking me to my front door. Now I realised he was just doing his job, sussing out a potential client.

Excellent. I didn’t want to date Kevin Wallis. I didn’t want to date anyone.

And Kevin didn’t want to date me, because he was straight.

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