Say you'll stay - Channing Tatum

P.44

He appears behind the door, dressed in dark suite-pants and a button up. I know it's not nice to stare, but I can't help it.

It's the black against black. The way the shirt fits him just right and how the pants must've been made specifically for him. I watch his large hands fix the collar as he's making his way towards me, his eyes seeming to become brighter when they find mine; even through the darkness.

"It's freezing!" He meets me halfway to the car. "What are you doing out here?" He's quick to help me get in the backseat before getting inside after me.

"Hello," I greet the driver. He's an older man, probably in his fifties. He gives me a nod and a smile before turning his attention to the road.

"I waited for you." I look at Channing and smile when he looks at me as if it's the most ridiculous thing in the world.

The corners of his mouth turns upwards into a small smile and he finds my hands.

"Why wouldn't you wait inside? I would've come and got you." He takes my hands in his and cups them to his mouth, blowing hot air on them. A shiver rakes down the entirety of my back as I welcome the warmth that is his.

"I know."

I rest my head against the seat, my body turned towards his.

He looks at me for a moment before moving our hands from his mouth.

"I didn't know we weren't taking your car." I say once the driver makes the second turn.

"Oliver would strangle me if I drove. He'll have us try five different beers." He lightly shakes his head.

"Only five?" I say.

I study him lazily when he laughs, still not completely understanding what he's doing with me. The radio is playing in the background and the driver seems to be in his own world, not taking any notice of us in the backseat.

"Would you have preferred my car?" He asks, his tone casual but the furrow between his brows saying otherwise. I would like to say that I don't know why taking the car got so loaded. Why it seems to bother him more than it does me, but I know why. I just wish he could let it go.

"Not if it meant I had to drink for us both." I smile.

He looks down but I can see him smiling. "I never said I was going to drive." He looks up and catches my eyes for a second. I hold them for two.

I laugh and so does he and the line between his brows disappears as quickly as it came.

He reaches for my hand again and his fingers slid in between mine. When his thumb start to move in circles against my skin, I feel him all over, as if he's touching the whole of me. I feel as if the tip of his finger shouldn't feel like so much, but it does.

His other hand moves up to fix the collar of his shirt again and I follow the movement, mesmerized and intrigued at once. I never thought I would find a pair of hands to be beautiful, but of course it's his.

"What?" He asks smiling, his green eyes finding mine.

"I'm just grateful for you." I say honestly, meaning it.

He looks at me as if he's going over my words more than once, trying to understand them.

"Come here," he says under his breath and pulls me to him by my thigh. It's done so effortlessly I find myself wanting to move back, just so he can do it again.

He leans forward until there's not more than a few inches between us, his eyes darting from mine down to my mouth. His hand squeezes my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through me and I think to myself that he can't keep doing this to me. My heart can't take it.