Chapter 10 – The Ride
984 Words
The night air was thick with the remnants of summer heat, the kind that clung to Lily’s skin even as the clock pushed past closing time. The shop was quiet now, the hum of the freezers filling the silence as she stacked the last set of napkin holders onto the counter. Ethan was wiping down the tables with easy, unhurried strokes, his sleeves pushed to his elbows.
She hadn’t planned to stay this late, but time with him had a way of slipping past her without permission.
“Long day?” he asked casually, tossing the rag over his shoulder.
Lily laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Feels like summer’s officially in full swing. I swear every kid in this town came in today.”
He smirked. “Yeah, and half of them wanted samples of every flavor. I think I heard you say ‘no, pick one’ at least twenty times.”
“That’s because you hid in the back for half of it,” she teased, giving him a mock glare.
Ethan’s grin widened. “Guilty. But hey, someone’s gotta make sure the freezers don’t explode.”
They fell into silence then, not uncomfortable, but charged—like the pause before a storm. Lily stacked a tray and tried not to notice how his eyes lingered on her longer than necessary.
Finally, Ethan broke it. “You walking home?”
She hesitated. Normally, yes. Her apartment wasn’t far, maybe fifteen minutes. But it was late, and the streets outside were empty.
“Yeah,” she said, forcing a casual tone. “I always do.”
Ethan leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Let me drive you.”
Her breath caught, though she wasn’t sure why. “That’s… not necessary.”
“Maybe not,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “But I want to.”
Lily froze, the words hanging between them, heavier than they should have been. Something in his tone was different tonight. Less teasing. More earnest.
She studied him for a beat—his steady gaze, the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the scar that caught her attention again. He looked… serious.
“I don’t want to be a bother,” she murmured, fiddling with her bracelet.
“You wouldn’t be,” Ethan said simply, his voice low. “Come on. It’s late.”
The quiet insistence in his tone made her pulse quicken. There was no room for argument, not really, and maybe—just maybe—she didn’t want to argue.
“…Okay,” she whispered.
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They locked up the shop together, the jingle of the keys loud in the still night. The parking lot was nearly deserted, just his old car parked beneath a flickering streetlamp.
He opened the passenger door for her. A small gesture, unexpected. She slid in, the leather seat cool against her legs, the air smelling faintly of his cologne—clean, warm, distinctly him.
When he got in on the driver’s side, the space suddenly felt too small. Their shoulders weren’t touching, but close enough that she was aware of every breath.
“Seatbelt,” he said lightly, turning the key.
Her fingers fumbled with the strap. “Right.”
The car rumbled to life, headlights cutting across the dark road. For a while, they just drove, the silence stretching but never breaking. Lily tried to look out the window, to focus on the familiar streets passing by, but her mind kept circling back to the man beside her.
Finally, Ethan spoke, his voice quiet, almost thoughtful. “You journal a lot, don’t you?”
Her head snapped toward him, heart skipping. “What?”
He smirked faintly, eyes still on the road. “Saw you scribbling in that little notebook during break the other day. Didn’t mean to snoop.”
“Oh.” Relief and panic tangled in her chest. “Yeah, I… it helps me clear my head.”
“Hmm,” he said, noncommittal, but his lips curved in the faintest smile. “I figured. You seem like someone who thinks a lot.”
She wanted to protest, to say she wasn’t that complicated, but instead she found herself whispering, “Maybe too much.”
The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was filled with things unsaid—her curiosity about his scar, the way his presence unsettled and comforted her at the same time, the unspoken pull tightening between them with every second.
Her apartment building came into view faster than she expected. She almost wished the drive were longer.
Ethan pulled to a stop at the curb, cutting the engine. He didn’t move to unlock the doors right away. Just sat there, looking at her in the glow of the streetlamp.
“Thanks for the ride,” Lily said softly, fingers twisting in her lap.
“Anytime,” he replied, his voice low. Then, after a beat: “Lily?”
She turned, meeting his gaze. His eyes were steady, unreadable, and for a moment the air between them thickened, heavy with possibility.
But he only said, “Be careful, alright?”
The weight of it lingered, though. The way his tone wrapped around her name like it meant something more.
She nodded, throat dry. “I will.”
He finally unlocked the doors. She slipped out, heart hammering, every nerve in her body alive.
As she walked up the path to her building, she glanced back once. Ethan was still there, watching, his arm resting on the open window. Their eyes met for the briefest second before she forced herself to turn away.
When her apartment door shut behind her, she leaned against it, pressing a hand to her chest.
It shouldn’t feel like this. It was just a ride home. Just silence in a car. Just words exchanged.
And yet… it wasn’t.
Not at all.
- Writer
