Olivia had barely gathered her composure when the car door opened. Clayton offered her his hand, and she took it without hesitation.
The gentle warmth of his palm seeped into hers, offering a strangely comforting sensation. Her chaotic thoughts gradually faded, replaced by an unexpected sense of courage as she got out of the car.
“Your hand is cold,” Clayton mumbled, almost to himself. His fingers pressed softly to her temples, searching for signs of a fever. Only when he felt the normal warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips did he breathe a small sigh of relief.
Olivia glanced down at her cold hand, then looked back at him. She offered a gentle, almost dismissive smile and responded softly, “It must be the cold air. I guess I didn’t realize how chilly it got tonight.”
Clayton stud
