Page 27 of Deliah
He let out a quiet, low laugh. “Figures.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was electric.
I knew the type. I’d been broken by the type. And yet—he didn’t feel like the others. He felt… like danger I might not survive. But god, I wanted to try.
I drifted back to the dancefloor, Cherry pulling me in for another round of shots, but my head wasn’t in it anymore. I could still feel the weight of his stare on my skin, like a fingerprint that wouldn’t fade. I danced, I laughed, I flirted with one of the lads who’d always fancied his chances—but all I could think about was the man in the white shirt, the one who hadn’t even touched me and still made my body hum like I’d already come twice for him. He unsettled me. Excited me. Terrified me. But I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t need any more fuckboys ruining my life. Especially not the kind that looked like him. Too confident, too composed, and too dangerous. Men like that didn’t fall in love—they consumed you. And I’d already survivedone heartbreak. I wasn’t sure I could survive another. So I told myself to forget him. Even as I felt myself turning to look—just one more time.
I was all danced out and drunk enough that my heels were starting to feel like a punishment. I wandered over to the bar, needing water—or maybe another shot, I wasn’t sure which—and found myself standing right next to him. The air between us tightened the second I stopped moving. I could feel the heat rolling off him like a warning.
Cherry came over, mascara smudged from laughing too hard, still holding Tommy’s hand like he was her prize for the night.
“I’m moonlight flitting it,” I said, leaning in so she could hear me over the bass. “I need my bed.”
“You alright?” she asked, eyeing HIM for half a second before flicking her gaze back to me.
“Fine. Just drunk. You going with Tommy?”
She smirked. “Obviously.”
“No problem. I’ll get a taxi.”
Before she could answer, his voice cut through the noise—low, steady, and terrifyingly confident.
“I’ll take you home.”
I turned to him slowly, raising my brow. “No, you fucking won’t. I don’t even know you.”
His lips curled into something between a smirk and a dare. “And you think getting in a taxi pissed out of your mind is safer?”
“Safer than going with you.”
He chuckled, and it sent a shiver straight through me. “You really don’t know how to say thank you, do you?”
Before I could bite back, Tommy chimed in from behind Cherry, his tone casual but firm.
“He’s right, Deliah. Let him drop you off.”
I hesitated and looked at Cherry, who just gave me a shrug and a hug. “Text me when you get in, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, pulling away and glancing back, still unsure whether I was walking into a trap or a fantasy.
The cobbled street felt colder than before as we walked side by side, not speaking. I was buzzing, tipsy, trying to play it cool—but every step closer to his car felt like crossing a line I couldn’t uncross. He unlocked a sleek black Range Rover with one click and opened the passenger door like he did this for women all the time. I climbed in, my dress riding up, my thoughts racing faster than my heartbeat.
The moment he pulled away from the kerb, he spoke. “You always get in taxis alone, pissed and vulnerable?”
I scoffed. “I can handle myself, thanks.”
“Right,” he said, glancing at me sideways. “Well, you wouldn’t be doing that if you were mine.”
I raised a brow, smiling despite myself. “And what makes you think I’d ever be yours?”
He didn’t answer straight away—just pressed his mouth into a smug line like he already knew. “You’d behave differently, that’s all.”
“Oh, so now you’re in charge of how I behave?”
“No,” he said, turning onto my street. “But if I were, trust me… You wouldn’t be walking home alone ever again.”
His words hung in the air like smoke—thick, choking, impossible to ignore. I didn’t reply. I didn’t know what to say. The rest of the drive was silent but not comfortably so. It was charged, like if either of us spoke again, something would snap. When we pulled up outside my apartment, he didn’t say a word. Just leaned his elbow on the wheel and watched me. I opened the door, stepped one foot out, then paused and turned back towards him. “Thanks for the lift.”
