Chapter 19: It’s Just You
Summer’s POV
“Since it’s your treat, Miss Taylor, it is naturally your claice.” His deja võice carried just a hint of amimamient
1 fought the urge to fidget with my hag strap. God, what do you ever probably don’t even register on his radar. “As long as you don’t mind.
geest in someone like Brandon Mack? The places usually eat My voice trailed off uncertainly.
Something flickered in his expression – understanding, maybe, or something deeper. “Miss Taylor, you seem to have enme misconceptions about me. His tone softened slightly. “I’m not as unproachable at you might think.” He made an elegant gesture
toward the street. “Please.”
The way he said it like he was trying to put me at ease while sim Janeously maintaining that aura of absolute control that seemed to come as naturally to him as breathing. How does he do th? Make even a simple word sound like hath an imitation and a command?
To my surprise, instead of the imposing Bentley from our first meeting, a sleek but relatively understated lumiry car waited at curb. is be… trying to make me feel more comfortable? The thought mile something warm flutter in my chest.
Brandon moved with that predatory grace to open the passenger door for me, waiting with surprising patience as I settled into the butter–soft leather seat. The door closed with a soft click that somehow managed to sound expensive, and I watched through the window as he rounded the hood to the driver’s side. Even walking to car, he moves like he owns the whole street. Which, given this is Manhattan, he probably does.
He slid into the driver’s seat with fluid elegance, the movement drawing my attention to the perfect cut of his suit. Stop staring at him like a teenager with a crush, I scolded myself, quickly looking away.
“Miss Taylor, please direct me
116th Street, thank you,” I kept my voice steady, professional. Just cause he’s being nice doesn’t mean anything has changed. He’s still Brandon Stark, and I’m still…
“Near Columbia?” His question interrupted my spiral of self–doubt.
I turned to him in surprise, catching that familiar glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Miss Taylor seems to have forgotten – I attended Columbia as well.”
Right. Of course he did. The reminder of our shared alma mater somehow made the space between us feel both smaller and more charged. The soft glow from the dashboard caught the sharp angles of his face as he programmed the navigation system, and I had to force myself to look away.
We rode in comfortable silence for a while, the lights of Manhattan siding past the windows like stars. The car’s interior smelled faintly of leather and his perfume..
“It’s been years since I’ve been back to Columbia,” he said suddenly. His deep voice thoughtful. “I wonder how much it’s changed.”
“You haven’t visited?” The question slipped out before I could stop genuine curiosity overriding my usual caution. I’m the sentimental type #whether it’s people, places, or things, I get attached thought about my own habits, how I made a point to visit several times a year, always stopping by the campus food trucks and small restaurants nearby to relive those carefree college days.
His expression shifted slightly, becoming more guarded. “Work keeps me busy. Besides, I’m not one to dwell on the past.“
The way he looked at me as he said it like the words carried some deeper meaning – made my heart skip a beat. I turned to watch the city lights blur past the window, trying to gather my thoughts. Everyone has a past.”
1/2
Chapter 19: It’s Just You
“True.” His voice took on that Velvet–soft quality
quality that never failed to make my s future? That’s a mistake, don’t you think?”
my skin prickle. But letting it content your present and
“Mr. Stark, you should be a lawyer. Or maybe a therapist.” I tried to Intensity of the moment.
ject some lightness into my voice, desperate to break
One perfect eyebrow arched slightly, “Oh? Why is that?”
I studied his profile e in the passing streetlights, gathering my thought. “Your way with words, I sald finally. “You have this way of making complicated things sound simple. When you talk about the past or the future… you make it sound like everything has a clear solution. Like life’s big problems are just… puzzles waiting to be solved. God, I’m rambling
But something about the quiet intimacy of the car, the way his presepte seemed to fill the space without being crwhelming, made me want to keep talking. “It’s… comforting, actually. Even when youre being infuriatingly cryptic.
His lips curved into that dangerous half–smile I was starting to know too well. “Life is a series of puzzles, Miss Taylor.” His deep voice carried an edge of intensity that made my skin prickle. “The key is knowing which ones are worth solving.” The way his dark eyes flickered to me made it clear this wasn’t just about metaphors anymore.
“Do you always be like this?” The words came out more vulnerable than I’d intended, “I mean… when you are comforting someone
His fingers tapped a gentle rhythm against the steering wheel as he considered his response. When he finally spoke, his carried a weight that made my breath catch. “No. There is no ‘always.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent, those dark eyes focused on the road ahead. The city lights played across his sharp features, highlighting the perfect line of his jaw. God, I hate h pause.
“Mr. Stark-
I
“And, there is no someone else.” He cut me off, his voice carrying that note of absolute certainty I was starting to associate with him. It’s just you.
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