Chapter 2

Hearing this, Ethan's expression softened.

"That's more like it."

"Come on, the company Thanksgiving dinner starts soon. Let's go."

He left with Chloe without looking back.

By the time I got downstairs, Chloe was already in the passenger seat, laughing about something with Ethan.

When she saw me, her smile faltered for a fraction of a second.

"Claire, sit up front."

Her hands fumbled with the seatbelt, but she couldn't seem to get it unclicked.

"Don't."

Ethan kept her in place, then glanced at me.

"Just sit in the back. Chloe's used to riding shotgun."

I paused for a moment but said nothing. I opened the rear door and climbed in.

Ethan hit the gas, and a pop-rock track filled the car through the speakers.

Chloe's favorite song.

It wasn't just the speakers.

The car diffuser was set to Chloe's preferred sea salt and sage. The glove compartment held her lipstick, her sunglasses, her hat.

She really was used to riding shotgun.

In the four years since he'd bought this car, Ethan had never once driven me to or from work—afraid our coworkers would find out about us.

But Chloe, even before she worked at our company, had enjoyed his door-to-door service.

Before, maybe because I was too deep in it, none of this had bothered me.

Just as Ethan always said—he and Chloe grew up together. If anything was going to happen between them, it would have happened long before I came along.

Besides, Chloe was my best friend. She was the one who'd introduced us in the first place.

But now, without the filter, I could see clearly. The way they acted around each other had crossed a line a long time ago.

Halfway through the drive, Chloe fell asleep.

Ethan wiped the sweat from her forehead with a tissue, then tapped the center console twice.

A wave of cold air hit me instantly. I sneezed three times in a row.

The display read sixty-eight degrees.

I reached for the rear vent to close it, but Ethan stopped me.

"Don't. Chloe runs hot. She won't sleep well otherwise."

"I'm closing the ones in the back."

"If you close the rear vents, the cabin temperature still rises."

He caught my eye in the rearview mirror, brow slightly furrowed.

"You should've worn another layer before going out."

"Just hang in there. We're almost there."

I looked at the jacket draped over Chloe—his jacket—and spoke.

"Pull over. I'll get out here."

Ethan's grip on the steering wheel went white-knuckle tight.

"What are you making a fuss about now?"

I pointed at the GPS.

"Your rule, remember? To keep coworkers from getting the wrong idea about us, I get out five minutes before we arrive."

He frowned at me, about to say something, but Chloe suddenly stirred awake.

"Are we almost there? I think I just saw someone from HR."

Ethan's expression tightened. He quickly pulled to the curb.

"Then go ahead and get out here."

My hand tightened on the seatbelt for a second. I nodded and opened the door.

I was about to cross the street when a car came tearing past. The gust of air knocked me off my feet.

Blood seeped from my palms.

"Watch out!"

Behind me, Ethan seemed to reach for his seatbelt, but Chloe tugged lightly at his sleeve.

"Let's go. It'll look bad if someone sees you."

He stopped moving. All he left me with was a single line:

"Be careful."

The light turned green. The car roared away, and Ethan's voice dissolved into the noise of the street.

I sat on the ground for a moment, and laughed softly to myself.

Then I took out my phone and opened the offer letter from a company in Savannah.