(Steven POV)
The engine shut off with a soft click.
Silence rushed in immediately.
Steven Sy remained seated in his car, hands still resting on the steering wheel, gaze unfocused on the quiet street in front of his house — but his mind was nowhere near it.
Michelle.
Her lips.
The unmistakable warmth that had surged through his veins the moment he'd crossed that final, fragile boundary of restraint.
He exhaled slowly, tilting his head back against the headrest.
What have I done?
The question wasn't filled with regret.
It was filled with shock.
He had meant only to drive her home. To be respectful. To keep the night safe and steady and under control.
But that moment in the car—
The way she had looked at him. The deliberate softness in her voice. The teasing warmth in her eyes. The way her hand had brushed his as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And then the question.
"Are you not attracted to me at all?"
He let out a faint, humourless breath.
