Before I made it to the half-way point of the cross walk, a car horn blared beside me. I jumped, and my eyes darted to the light. It was still green. I turned to glare at the offending vehicle, but my eyes widened when a black Escalade came into view. Jared waved, quivering from a barrage of laughter.

I wasn’t sure if I was annoyed or euphoric, but the mixture of emotions propelled me to the passenger side of his car. I whipped open his door and climbed in.

“You scared me to death!” I said, slamming the door behind me.

“I’m sorry!” Jared exclaimed, trying to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up.

The light turned green and he looked at me. “You want a ride?”

I stared at him blank-faced. “Seriously? I’m in your car.”

He shrugged and pulled forward.

“You look frozen,” he said, touching the end of my nose. That one tap sent adrenaline running throughout my body and I felt nothing but warmth. He reached for the knobs under his radio and twisted the heat to its highest setting.

“I went for a walk,” I said, unable to subdue the ridiculous grin on my face.

“I see that,” he frowned, disapproving.

“Where are you on your way to?”

“To pick up a client.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Are you always this vague?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re full of piss and vinegar today.”

“May I remind you that you honked at me in the middle of a busy street? I could have been killed.”

“Doubtful. The light was on our side.” I dwelled on how he said ‘our’ for a moment.

“Let’s not discount the possible rabid motorists flying through the wet intersection. My hesitation caused by your honking could have led to some serious sidewalk chalk drawings.”

Jared laughed. “Are you sure you shouldn’t apply for law school? You have quite an imagination.”

“So I’ve been told,” I grinned.

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“I’m having drinks with some friends. I would invite you, but I assume you’ll be there,” I watched for a guilty or stunned expression at my comment, but I was quickly disappointed.

“You’re not old enough to drink,” he grimaced, ignoring my accusation.

I leaned closer to him. “We don’t tell the bartender that,” I whispered.

Jared’s expression twisted into frustration. “Am I going to have to make an appointment with you for dinner?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s called a date.”

He smiled his amazing smile and I tried not to gasp. It was hard being candid with him when he was so stunning. I felt like I had car-jacked a film star.

“Would you like my number?” I asked without thinking. A wave of embarrassment washed over me as soon as the words left my mouth.