IT HAD BEEN a restless night, and an even more restless day. Ever since I’d left Ollie’s house after our talk the evening before, I’d been barraged with memories of him, like my mind was having a picture show with no intermission in sight. It was as if when I’d finally given myself permission to understand and explore a possible friendship with Ollie, my brain let loose, like water bursting through a dam after a long shutdown. And with the memories came the feelings I’d associated with them as they’d happened, and that was the part I was desperately trying to work through. All the feelings of longing, of lust, and even the other L-word I couldn’t begin to bring myself to think about. It all hit me full force while lying in bed, while in the shower, while making lunch. I’d given up trying to drown it out with TV, because what did you need a television for when your mind was a twenty-four-seven Netflix binge?

It was nuts. Fucking nuts. And it wouldn’t go away.

After a long, hot shower, I threw on the first shirt I saw in my closet, but after glancing in the mirror, I ripped it off and tried another. And then another. Tonight Ollie would be picking me up after he got off work, which meant I’d had a long day to stress about seeing him again, and I didn’t want to look too dressed up, like I was trying too hard. Shorts would be too casual, so those were out…maybe jeans? Ten shirts later, I finally settled on a deep ruby one and then stepped into the bathroom to shave. But as I lifted the razor, my mind drifted.

“I like this,” Ollie said, running his thumb along the edge of my five o’clock shadow.

“Do you?” I’d meant to shave that morning, but I’d been in a rush to see him and it slipped my mind. “So I should keep it?”

“You look hot as fuck either way. But this”—he leaned in and brushed his stubbled cheek against mine—“would feel damn good against my thighs…”

Holy fuck. My heart thudded at the memory…and I put the razor down.

True to his word, Ollie was waiting in the parking lot of my apartment complex at six p.m. on the dot, and as I walked out of my place and caught sight of him below, the apprehension I’d been feeling all day about seeing him again disappeared.

He was leaned against the hood of his car, his massive arms crossed over his broad chest, the black t-shirt he wore stretched to its limits. His hair looked darker, but as I came down the stairs and got a better view, I realized that was because it was wet, like he’d come straight over after a shower. The effect was…well, unnerving, if the way my stomach flipped was any indication.

“Hey there,” he said, pushing off the hood and giving me a crooked grin. I wasn’t sure whether I should give him a hug or shake his hand or fist-bump or whatever it was we were supposed to do to greet each other, so I came to a stop in front of him and waited to see what he’d do. Like he sensed my uncertainty, he shoved his hands in his pockets, giving me an out I wasn’t sure I wanted.

“Hey. Just get off work?” I asked. Duh, of course he did. You already knew that.

“Yeah,” he said, ducking his head and running his hand through the damp strands like he was self-conscious he hadn’t had a chance to dry them. I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to be, because wet was a good look for him, but maybe that wasn’t the best way to start off the conversation.

“So…how was your day?” I asked.

“It was a little rough. Much better now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, and then shook my head. “I mean the rough part, not the better now part.”

He chuckled and rocked back on his heels. “I know what you meant.”

What the hell is wrong with me? My stomach felt like a hundred goddamn butterflies had been unleashed since I’d come down the stairs. It was just Ollie, for God’s sake. There wasn’t any reason to be nervous. He was the same guy I’d seen yesterday, the same one I’d had dinner and drinks with last week with Mike and Deb. But somehow he looked different to me, and I couldn’t put my finger on why.

“I thought we’d take it slow tonight. Start you off on back roads and see how you go,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, back roads are great. Good plan.”

“Cool. So”—he held up a set of keys—“you wanna do the honors?”

I stared at the keys for a second. “Ohh. You meant you want me to start us out from here. My bad.” Hello, a little slow on the uptake there, Reid.

“Unless you’d prefer I take us out first and then switch?”

“Nope, I got this,” I said, feigning confidence. I’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Ollie all night and day that it had barely even occurred to me that I’d be driving for the first time since my accident all those months ago. That only made my nerves ratchet up a few hundred notches. No big deal. “Hand ’em on over.”

He placed the keys in my open palm, and as his skin grazed mine…there it was. That spark that shocked me when we touched, and this time, I could see he felt it too, because he jerked at the same time. I gulped and pulled my hand away.

“I guess we should…” I gestured to the car, and he nodded.

“Yeah, we should.”

As I climbed into the driver’s seat, I wondered if I’d ever been so on edge in my life, and it had everything to do with the man sliding in beside me. I tried not to focus on how close we were in such a small space, but that was easier said than done with the smell of his heady cologne filling my nose. I’d smelled it on him before, but never thought twice about it, and now all I could think about was what kind it was and where exactly he’d sprayed it.

Focus, Reid. Jesus.

I buckled myself in and adjusted the mirrors, and then I sat with my hands at ten and two, giving myself a quick don’t freak the fuck out talk.

“You ready for this?” Ollie asked, and I leaned back against the headrest and looked at him. His eyes were so intense, seeing right through my anxiety, and the compassion I found in their depths helped set my mind at ease.

My stuttering heart, however, was a different story.

“Um.” I shifted in my seat. “Is it weird that I’m nervous?” And not just about the driving.

“Not at all. Take your time. There’s no rush.”

I blew out a breath and wiped my hands on my pants. Then I adjusted the mirrors again, made sure my seat was comfortably positioned—basically, I was procrastinating. Out of the corner of my eye, Ollie took his sunglasses off from where they’d been hanging on his shirt, but as he unfolded them, I blurted out, “Don’t put those on.”

His hand halted. “Why not?”

“Because then I can’t see your eyes.”

Ollie stared at me for a long moment, and without a word, he folded the glasses and put them in the glove compartment.

“Okay,” I said, cranking the car. “Here we go.”

I took it slow through the parking lot, getting used to the feel of the vehicle, tapping the brakes to see how much give they had. As we came out of the gated complex, I stopped before the main road.

“Let’s make a left here, and then we’ll go up Harris and make a wide loop,” he said.

“Sounds good to me.” I flipped on the blinker and waited for several cars to pass before I made the turn. Ollie sat patiently next to me, letting me take my time instead of pointing out all the missed opportunities to pull out. In that respect, he was the perfect person to take me back on the road, and I was grateful in that moment that I hadn’t been a stubborn asshole and stayed cooped up in my apartment.

Thanks, Mom…

The five o’clock traffic had simmered down, and the way we were going meant there wouldn’t be many other cars around anyway. Sitting behind the wheel again didn’t feel as strange as I thought it would, and I was surprised to find that having Ollie with me took my mind off focusing on the what-ifs—trucks T-boning me, basically.

It was so quiet, never a good thing when I had my crazy thoughts to occupy me, so I said, “Did you want to turn on the radio?”

“Nah, we probably don’t need the distraction.”

Yeah, you’re enough of a distraction. “Damn. I was so hoping to get a glimpse of karaoke Ollie.”

“Oh God.” He laughed. “Unless I’m alone in the car, it’ll take me about ten margaritas before you catch an earful of me singing.”

“Say it ain’t so.”

“It’s so all right. It’s not just the words I butcher. I think I’m as bad at singing as I am at the piano.”

“Yikes,” I said, pretending to cringe. “That’s a little scary.”

“Hey, isn’t that against some kind of teacher handbook to tell a student they suck?”

“I never said you sucked. I said you were scary.”

Ollie bristled and shook his head. “I blame the teacher, then. After one class, I should be a goddamn prodigy. I want my money back.”

With a laugh, I flipped down the visor to block the sun from blinding me and wondered at how surprised I was by how easy it was to just be with him. I didn’t feel any pressure or tension coming from his direction—instead, I simply enjoyed his company. But I wanted to know more. I wanted to know about the day-to-day, and I wanted him to know he could talk to me if he needed to. That was part of this whole getting to know you again thing, wasn’t it?

“Why was it a rough day at work?” I asked.

“Nah, you don’t wanna hear about that.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

He bit down on his lip for a moment and then nodded. “Sometimes it’s just a hard job. No two days are ever the same, which I like, but you never know what you’re walking into when you get a call.” He looked out the passenger window. “Not everyone has a happy ending.”

My heart lurched at the sadness in his tone. “I don’t know how you do it. How you don’t carry all that home with you.”

“Oh, but I do,” he said. “Most of the people I work with, they’ve got kids or partners to come home to. I don’t really have any diversions to keep my mind from replaying what I call the could’ve-should’ves. I think a lot about the patients that come through, about how they’re faring or what I could’ve done differently. It weighs on me a bit.” He gave me a tight smile. “And now I bet you’re thinking that’s too heavy of an answer.”

“No. I was thinking it takes a special person to be able to handle a job like yours.”

His smile grew a little bigger. “I appreciate you saying that.”

“It’s the truth. I could never do a job where people’s lives were in my hands.”

“You’d be surprised what you find you can do that you never imagined. I mean, look at you and all you’ve been through. It hasn’t been easy, but you’re trying. Right? And I bet it would’ve seemed impossible before. Thriving and driving,” he said, chuckling.

Thriving and driving was right. It hadn’t been nearly as scary as I thought it would be. The drive had been a smooth one, exactly like riding a bike for the first time after a long winter. I wasn’t as rusty as I thought, and that had me feeling brave.

“Ollie? I think…I’d like to go back,” I said.

“No problem. I can take you back if you want. Just pull over when it’s clear,” he said, reaching down to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“No, I mean…back to where it happened.”

“Oh,” Ollie said, his eyebrows lifted. “Are you sure?”

“I’d rather face it for the first time with you than on my own.” I glanced at him. “Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” he said. His vote of confidence made me smile, and I turned us around in the direction of downtown.

But the closer we got to where it’d all gone done, the more my self-assurance faded. By the time I turned onto Mercer, my hands were full-on trembling.

“You’re doing great, Reid,” he said, his encouragement exactly the thing I needed to hear as we traveled down Mercer, coming up to the intersection at Thomas, where I’d been blindsided by a truck that January morning.

The light was red as we approached the intersection, and I slowed to a stop, my hands clenched tightly around the wheel. Neither of us spoke as we sat there, waiting for the light to change. When it turned green, I stayed where I was for another few seconds, looking on all sides for anyone who’d decided to disregard their red light. Then I cautiously crossed over Thomas, right over where my car had been hit, and as soon as I passed it, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“You did it,” Ollie said, grinning at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. It may have seemed like such a small step to anyone else, but to me, I’d just faced one of my fears head-on, and the relief I felt was enormous. I figured I would have to work my way up to driving down here, but I’d done it. I’d actually freaking done it. And even though it would still probably be a while before I was comfortable driving again, at least I didn’t have to be afraid of having a panic attack on the road anymore.

“Fuck,” I said, my heart still pounding as I pulled the car into a bank parking lot and put it in park.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I am. That was kind of a rush.” I reached for the air conditioning dial at the same time Ollie did, and when his arm brushed against mine, goosebumps skated across my skin. But this time I didn’t flinch. He noticed.

After turning the AC up a bit higher, he leaned back in his seat, turning slightly to face me. And then, like he was testing out the waters, he said, “I like the red on you.”

Looked like my time spent getting ready hadn’t been a waste, after all, especially when Ollie’s gaze settled on the line of my jaw. Without him even touching me, I shivered, wondering if the memory that had made me put my razor away was the same one that had his tongue running along his lower lip now.

“I don’t know what you have planned,” he said, his eyes flicking up to mine, “but I’m having to use some of my vacation time this week before it expires, so let me know if you want to do this again.”

The time he’d taken me up to one of his favorite spots crossed my mind, and it gave me an idea. “Does that mean you’re free all day tomorrow?”

“If you want me to be.”

“I want you to be.”

“Then I’m all yours.”

“Good.” My cheeks heated under his potent stare. I was blushing. The man had reduced me to blushing.

When Ollie spoke again, his voice was deep and full of gravel. “Do you want to keep going?” he asked, and it didn’t take a genius to know he wanted me to read between the lines: Do you want to keep going with me?

“Yes,” I said. “I definitely do.”