-POV Derby
The city outside the car window blurred into streaks of gray and silver as we drove away from my apartment. I sat in the passenger seat with Jordan’s hand resting on my thigh, his thumb moving in slow, absent circles over the fabric of my slacks. It wasn’t a possessive grip, not the kind that pinned me down or demanded anything. It was quieter than that. Steadier. Like he simply needed the contact to remind himself I was still here, still real, still choosing to stay even after everything we had said yesterday.
I hadn’t slept much after our conversation in the pantry. Every time I closed my eyes I kept hearing my own voice confessing that I was already in love with him, kept feeling the way his body had responded — not with frantic hunger, but with a deliberate, conscious inte
