Page 2 of Before I Should Leave
“My assistant said you're ex-military?”
He nodded once. “Yeah. Army. Got out a few years ago.”
I tilted my head slightly, watching his profile. Strong jawline. Nice beard. Not overly clean-cut but intentional. Even the tattoos seemed deliberate, not sloppy or impulsive. “And now you drive?”
His mouth curved just a little. “You say that like I should be doin’ somethin’ else.”
I blinked. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Mmm.” He didn’t press it, just refocused on the road like he had all night to read me slowly.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t calm either. It was… loaded like a waiting room before a confrontation. Like two people playing polite when they both lowkey wanted to say something slick.
I shifted in my seat, annoyed at myself for even noticing how good he looked. That wasn’t me. I didn’t flirt with strangers or do the “meet-cute” thing. I was thirty-seven, booked, busy, and not in the market for any kind of distraction, especially not one that drove for a living and looked like he could make you forget your morals.
“So what made you start this?” I asked, just to break the silence. “Driving, I mean.”
He paused. “It’s good money. No boss over my shoulder. No desk. People get in, I get ‘em where they gotta go. I’m cool wit' that.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Even with people like me?”
“You’re not the worst I’ve had.”
That made me smirk. “Not the worst, huh?”
“Nah. You’re… sharp. Got a lil’ fire in you.” His eyes met mine again through the mirror, and the way he said it didn’t feel like a compliment but like a dare.
I looked out the window again, biting down a smile. I wasn’t about to give this man the satisfaction of seeing he was getting under my skin. But he was in that subtle, slow drip kind of way. Traffic slowed on the freeway, red brake lights glowing through the rain like a warning.
“You might wanna call the airline and let ‘em know you on the way,” he said, voice low and even. “Looks like we gon' be sittin’ in this for a minute.”
I checked the app on my phone, cussed under my breath, and dialed. After a few minutes of going through prompts and verifying my confirmation number, I got off the line with a seat still held and my anxiety bubbling just under the surface. I glanced forward. “This whole stretch is at a standstill.”
He nodded once, calm as ever. “Storm must’ve knocked a tree or somethin’. Could be an accident, too.”
“You’re very… unbothered by all this.”
He chuckled, eyes still focused ahead. “You want me to panic? Might as well both be stressed out, huh?”
I shook my head, crossing one leg over the other. “No. I just… I’m not used to this.”
“I noticed.”
I looked at him, narrowing my eyes slightly. “Oh, you noticed?”
“I did. From the moment you got in.” His voice was smooth but solid. “You used to takin’ charge of shit. Commandin’ a room. Callin’ shots.”
“Am I?”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ it,” he said. “Just means I know what I’m dealin’ wit’.”
I felt something warm twist low in my stomach. Not fromwhathe said, buthowhe said it. Cool. Confident. Like he’d already figured me out without trying too hard. He pulled off the exit without warning, sliding into a side street as the GPS re-routed. The sound of rain thudding on the roof filled the silence between us for a moment.
“Shortcut?” I asked.
“Back way. It’s longer distance-wise but faster tonight.”
“You sure?”
