He sat his half-empty bottle of Corona on a table. “I’m good. I swear.”

I glanced at my wrist.

“That’s nice,” Thomas said.

“Thanks. It was a birthday present from my parents. Jackson never understood why I’d wear something so tiny that didn’t have any numbers on it.”

Thomas covered my watch with his hand, his fingers wrapping around my small wrist one and a half times. “Please let me drive you.”

“I’ve already called a cab.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“I—”

“Liis”—Thomas slid his hand from my wrist to my hand, leading me toward the parking lot—“I’m going that way anyway.”

The warmth in his smile made him seem more like the stranger I had taken home and less like the ogre at the office. He didn’t let go of my hand until we were at his black Land Rover Defender. It looked almost as old as I was, but Thomas had clearly made some upgrades and modifications, and he kept it meticulously clean.

“What?” he said, noticing the look on my face after he sat in the driver’s seat.

“This is just such an odd vehicle to own in the city.”

“I agree, but I can’t give her up. We’ve been through too much. I bought her on eBay when I first moved here.”

I had left behind my four-year-old silver Toyota Camry in Chicago. I hadn’t had the money saved up to ship it, and that long of a road trip hadn’t sounded appealing in the least, so it was sitting in my parents’ drive with the words For Sale and my cell phone number written in white shoe polish on the front windshield. I hadn’t thought of eBay. I was so determined not to think about Jackson or home that I hadn’t thought about anyone or anything inside of Chicago’s city limits. I hadn’t called my old friends or even my parents.

Thomas left me to my thoughts, lost in his own, as he navigated his SUV through traffic to our building. My hand had felt lonely ever since he let it go to open my door. Once he parked and jogged around to my side to be a gentleman again, I tried not to hope that he would take my hand, but I failed. However, Thomas didn’t fail to disappoint me.

I walked with my arms crossed against my chest, pretending like I wouldn’t have taken his hand anyway. Once inside, Thomas pressed the button, and we waited in silence for the elevator. Once the doors opened, he motioned for me to step inside, but he didn’t follow.

“You’re not coming?”

“I’m not tired.”

“Are you going all the way back?”

He thought about that and then shook his head. “Nah, I’ll probably go across the street.”

“To Cutter’s Pub?”