Whispered Desires

Chapter 27: Cars And Couches

JASMINE

"Are you sure you don't want to walk there?" I glance over to Kilian, who shakes his head with a thin smile as we step out of his apartment building.

"No way am I walking all those miles to Hayden's place. Although I still don't understand why they can't just visit us."

I can't help but roll my eyes at his remark, even though I know there's more than just laziness behind his aversion. "Well, if you're okay with Mila giving birth in your apartment, then you can ask them to come here." I shrug.

"I don't even want to be there when she pops that thing out of her, much less have her do so in my living room..." He laughs. "Wait, what are you doing?"

I feel his eyes on me when we reach his car and I position myself in front of the driver's door. "I'm driving us."

"No, you're not."

"And why's that?" I challenge him, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Because this is my car and because I want to drive." His voice is thick with conviction as he approaches me, caging me in against the door. I can feel his gaze on my soul as he stares me down, and yet I'm not intimidated by him.

I know what he's doing and why he's doing it, but for once I decide against fighting him. Truth is, I still worry about him. Six weeks after the accident, his broken ribs and the joint dislocations in his fingers are healed properly. His shoulder seems to be better too, but his leg still gives him a hard time. Technically, he's fit to drive an automatic car, but I don't think driving is something he should do right now. It's not just his leg I'm concerned about, after all.

One thing I learned about Kilian in the weeks I've spent with him, is that he's stubborn as all hell. He identifies himself with his profession, and I know he doesn't even entertain the thought of not returning to the field. I'm in awe of the way he carries himself, conviction and pride written all over his features, but I know he doubts himself deep inside. It doesn't happen often, but every now and then this deeply rooted vulnerability becomes obvious to me. This can't be easy for him at all.

It must be that knowledge that makes me give in, a sigh escaping my lips when I mutter, "Fine. You drive."

"Well, that was easy." His trademark grin curls on his lips, the one that always makes my heart stop.

"Don't get used to it, pizza boy." I slip out of his arms and pat his ass, earning myself a full-on belly laugh that echoes through the garage.

"I wouldn't dare."

The drive to Hayden's place is rather silent, but I don't fail to notice the nervousness washing over Kilian's features at every stoplight we pass. I can feel him tense when we reach an intersection, where he watches every moving object in his peripheral with great caution. I study him for a moment but decide against saying something; instead, I reach for his hand on his thigh and give it a gentle squeeze. He doesn't hesitate before he interlaces his fingers with mine, his grasp tight and secure.

We spend the rest of the drive in silence; if his hand wasn't so tightly wrapped around mine, I wouldn't know he was here at all. Only when we reach Mila's and Hayden's house do I feel the heavy weight lifting off his shoulders, a heavy sigh escaping his throat as he studies the house at the other side of the road. It's a cute little house, one I definitely would not have chosen, and also not one you would not expect from L.A.'s infamous star quarterback. Then again, you wouldn't think Mila would marry a man like him, so I guess we know to expect the unexpected with these two.

Orange tulips and peonies cover their entire front yard, a sign they made in a pottery class hanging right above their doorbell. Mila and Hayden Cross stands written on the tone-colored plate, decorated with self-drawn flowers. Mila sucks at drawing, so this must have been Hayden doing all the work.