Being alone in the car with him at night felt... different.

I kept my eyes on the windshield, hands fidgeting in my lap.The unease in my chest wasn't just about being caught—it was about him.

From the corner of my eye, I stole a glance. He seemed completely at ease, one hand on the wheel, his gaze steady on the road ahead. The faint glow from the dashboard lit his profile, calm and unreadable.

I shifted, trying to focus on the passing blur of streetlights. But the memory of earlier lingered. Carson had been careful, but James wasn't someone who ignored these kinds of things. He'd seen me talking to someone. He might not know who, but I was sure he could figure it out quickly.

My pulse quickened when I caught myself staring too long. I turned my head back sharply, but it was too late.

"Something you want to say?" His tone was light, almost teasing.

I tensed, shaking my head. "No, not really." The words felt stiff, unnatural.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the faintest tilt of his head, his attention still half on the road.

"You sure?"

A red light halted us. He glanced at me, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp, catching more than I wanted to give away.

I hesitated. "I was just... wondering."

His lips twitched, not quite a smile but close. "About?"

The light turned green, and he didn't press. But his silence was worse—it left space for all the unspoken things crowding the air.

"Why did you come so late?".

I swallowed back the unease that edged into my tone as the words fell slowly. It wouldn't have surprised me if he asked the same question back, but a small, selfish and slightly terrified part of me wanted to know if he came just for me.

He thought for a second. "I had to pay my respects."

"At nearly one in the morning?" I joked, mimicking him from earlier.

Horror sent in instantly as it came out before I realized. I sucked in a puff of air before a rush of words spilled out.

"I'm so sorry, that was rude." Lilly's voice raged in the back of my head at the snarky remark.

His face gave nothing away for a beat too long, and I braced myself. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed, low and warm. "I was too busy during the day to go in the afternoon," he explained, his tone light. "So I came at night when I had time."

Relief swept over me, though a sliver of guilt lingered. He wasn't someone I should feel comfortable around, yet here I was, leaning into the conversation to avoid silence.

"What do you do all day?" I asked, trying to keep things casual.

He tilted his head, as if considering. "I manage my employees, keep the town running smoothly, and do my best to stop anything from catching fire. Things of that sort."

His voice dipped slightly on the last word, and something about the way he said it sent a chill down my spine. I smiled, unsure whether to respond or let it slide.

Before I could decide, he shifted the focus back to me.

"What about you? Ben says you like to tag along with him. I can't imagine why—I don't even like waking up that early."

I couldn't help but giggle softly at his comment. "It's better than sitting at home all day," I said, then hesitated before adding, "and it's close to the woods."

He raised an eyebrow, curious. "What does that have to do with it?"

"The forest was my home for a long time," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could filter them. "I guess I find it... comforting to be near them."

My answer felt more honest than I intended, and his gaze lingered, as if trying to piece something together. I looked away, unsure of what to say next.

"You were there for a while," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, as if he was picking each word with care.

I nodded, unsure where he was leading.

"It's incredible you survived as long as you did," he continued, his gaze flickering toward me briefly before returning to the road. "Most adults wouldn't last a day up there. Hard to imagine a child making it through."

His words settled heavily between us, stirring the memories I tried so hard to keep buried. Cold nights, endless hunger, the kind of fear that sinks into your bones.

But worse than all that was the loneliness—a vast, unrelenting emptiness I could never escape.

I looked away, focusing on the dashboard for the first time since we'd started talking. The weight of his attention felt too much.

"I managed," I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended. "I learned how to find food, build shelter, keep myself safe. It wasn't easy, but I didn't have a choice."

The sound of the turn signal clicked softly as he slowed for a stoplight, casting a brief orange glow inside the car. He shifted slightly in his seat, one hand gripping the wheel as the other rested casually on the gear shift.

"If it was so comforting," he asked, his voice lower now, the question seeming to carry more weight than the words alone, "what made you leave?"

I hesitated, his tone making it clear he wasn't just asking out of curiosity. I shook my head slightly, trying to find the right way to answer. "It was only comforting because it was familiar.

Eventually..." I trailed off, unsure if I wanted to finish the thought.

He eased the car forward, his movements smooth and deliberate, as if the question hung between us as heavily as the silence.

"Eventually?" he pressed gently, glancing at me again. His tone wasn't demanding, but there was something in his voice that made it hard to brush him off.

I shrugged, deciding I might as well just say it. "I got lonely."

The admission felt heavier than I'd expected, embarrassment prickling at the edges of my chest. I couldn't quite meet his gaze.

He hummed softly, a sound that was neither judgmental nor dismissive. "You've changed a lot since we first met. You could barely put a sentence together."

I glanced at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard. His tone wasn't mocking; if anything, it felt contemplative?

A faint smile tugged at my lips as I recalled that chaotic first encounter—his frustration, my stumbling words, and how close I'd come to tears as he demanded answers about his wallet. "Yeah, I've gotten better. I'm not stuttering anymore."

A small laugh escaped me as I added, "Remember when you yelled at me for returning your lost wallet?" I teased, glancing sideways at him.

He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Do you remember when you called me 'beautiful'?"

My eyes widened, and I felt the air leave my lungs in a sharp rush. The heat of embarrassment burned up my neck and into my face.

This is what I get for teasing.

His laughter filled the car, warm and rich, as he glanced at me briefly, a dimple appearing on one side of his face. "Oh, you don't think I'm beautiful anymore?" he teased, his voice light but laced with a challenge.

I fumbled for a response, my tongue tying itself in knots. His laughter only grew, a stark contrast to the silence that had been looming before.

"Well, technically, you're handsome," I managed to squeak out after a few tense seconds.

The car slowed as he pulled into the driveway behind Ben's car, the sudden stillness amplifying the intensity of the moment. His hands rested on the steering wheel for a second longer than necessary.

"Handsome, huh?" His gaze lingered, soft and searching, the dim light casting his features in a way that made my heart stutter. Every cell in my body seemed to point towards a fact that didn't seem real. This couldn't be real.

I let out a nervous laugh, hoping to diffuse the tension. "Well, I figured I should use the proper term."

His expression softened, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of something vulnerable beneath his playful exterior. "I appreciate the correction," he said quietly.

I smiled shyly, unsure if he was still teasing or if there was something more behind his words.

"I'm glad you've found a place here," he added, his tone unexpectedly warm. "Even if it's not the woods."

I nodded, unsure how to respond. "Thanks for the ride," I said, reaching for the door handle. The cool night air greeted me as I stepped out of the car, the weight of the moment still clinging to me.

"That reminds me," he called, his voice pulling me back. "Do you remember where my office is?"

I paused, glancing back at him. "I think so," I said, recalling the winding halls of town hall.

"You don't have to check in with Amanda. Just go straight there when you come in."

I nodded. "I will. Thank you."

As I started to close the door, I hesitated, the words bubbling up before I could stop them. "Goodnight, James."

His smile turned almost wicked, his eyes gleaming in the faint light. "Goodnight, beautiful."

The door slipped from my fingers, my heart skipping a beat as his words settled over me. I managed to close it hastily, my face aflame, and turned toward the house without looking back.

His quiet laughter followed me into the night, leaving me equal parts flustered and disarmed.