My car's still unlocked, thank God, which is the only thing that keeps me from having a complete and total breakdown in front of the Cunninghams' gate. I open the door and throw myself down on the backseat. I rub my cheek against the rough fabric of the cushion and force myself to take a couple of deep breaths.
It's all my own fault, I know. I don’t know how to keep my emotions at bay. I should’ve just let him rant and focused on winning the bet. Now I’ve let that final opportunity slip out of my fingers.
My physical reaction to him doesn't help anything. It only gets me worked up, and my efforts to fight down my attraction only make me more frustrated.
I try to focus on the patter of rain against the roof of my car.
He's a cheap, heartless bastard, I remind myself, but it doesn't make me feel any better. At the end of the day, he has no respect for the work Dad and I do. I repeat that thought in my head, over and over again, until eventually, mercifully, the sound of the rain sends me off to sleep.
* * *
I'm woken by a sharp rap against the window.
My eyes fly open. I jerk upright, looking frantically around as I try to remember where I am. By the time the details of my current situation come back to me, Calder has already opened the door, bringing a rush of cold and rain with him as he slides inside.
"Move over," he says.
Still half asleep, I obey without a word. I push a strand of damp hair behind my ear as he settles down beside me and pulls the door closed once more. He seems even taller and broader in the backseat of my tiny Honda, and his leg and hip are pressed against mine. He's warm, even through our damp clothes.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," he says, an edge to his voice.
Our argument comes rushing back to me, and my own annoyance flares up.
"I told you I wasn't going to rely on your generosity anymore," I say.
"I didn't think you'd go running out in the storm!"
As if to add weight to his words, thunder crashes overhead, making the car tremble.
"What was I supposed to do? Go sulk in my borrowed room in my borrowed clothes?"
"It wasn't my intention to kick you out."
"It doesn't matter now."
"What's that supposed to mean? Do you intend to stay in your car?"
"For now, yes."
"Don't be ridiculous, Lily. You don't have your keys. It's cold out here. You don't know how much longer this storm will last. It might still be a couple of days before the road clears."
There comes a point sometimes in arguments when you know you've lost. When your pride and your anger have backed you into a corner and a sensible person would throw up their hands and walk away. I'd like to think that I'm normally a sensible person, but the past few days have left me with a confusing jumble of emotions. I panic.
"I'll stay out here," I tell him. "I'm sure I'll survive somehow."
He makes an exasperated sound and runs his hand through his wet hair. "This is crazy."
"No. I think I'm being pretty reasonable, actually. Unless you feel like continuing our earlier argument, I think it's better if we stay apart."
"We can stay apart in the house."
"But I'd still be your guest. Believe me, I don't want to be out here, but I won't go back in that house. I refuse to owe you anything."
"I'm not going to let you sleep in your car, Lily."
"If it weren't storming, I'd be halfway home right now," I remind him. "We'd probably never speak again, and I don't think either of us would have a problem with that. Let's just make this easy."
He stares at me for a long moment, and I'm afraid he's going to keep arguing. But he only runs his hand through his hair again.
"Fine," he says. "I won't drag you back."
I wait for him to get out of the car, but he doesn't move.
"One thing before I go," he says. His eyes move down my body. "I'm going to need Louisa's clothes."
I gape at him. "What? I'll ship them back to you, I promise."
"I'm afraid I can't take that risk. As you said, after you leave here we'll probably never see each other again."
"You have the contact information for the Center," I remind him. "You can find me there. Plus you have my purse back in the house."
He shakes his head. "You said yourself that you no longer want to owe me anything. I'm assuming that extends to my sister's generosity as well."
Fuck. He's turned my own words against me.
"Fine," I say. "Get out of the car and I'll hand them out to you."
"So you can lock me out in the rain? I don't think so."
"If you're that concerned, the keys for this thing are back in the house with my purse." If I could get him to bring them out here, all the better, but he doesn't fall for it.
"I'm not leaving here without those clothes." He leans back in the seat and stretches his arms over his head, waiting. "You have two choices: give them to me, or come back to the house with me." He finishes with one of those smug little smiles of his.
He thinks he's won the argument, that by insisting the return of the clothes he'll get me to go back inside. He doesn't realize that I've already abandoned my sense in favor of my pride, and I'm willing to go down with this ship. I only have one weapon left to use against him.
I reach behind me and slowly pull down the zipper of my dress. His eyes widen when he realizes what I'm doing, but I don't stop. When I've finished unzipping, I slide the shoulders of my dress off one by one, rolling the fabric down to my waist and revealing the lacy black bra I found in Louisa's closet. His gaze follows every moment of my hands, and his eyes linger on my breasts, then my stomach, before flicking back up to my eyes again.
He wasn't expecting this, and in his surprise he lacks the composure to hide the hunger that burns in his eyes. I feel wanton, powerful, as I reach around my back once more and unclasp my bra. I pull it off and shove it into Calder's hands. It nearly falls out of his grip, he's so focused on my newly-exposed breasts, but he manages to grab one of the straps. Still, his eyes remain on me, burning with such an intensity that my entire body goes hot, despite the fact that I'm half-naked in the back of a car.
I grab the fabric at my waist and raise my bottom off the seat just enough to sidle the dress down over my hips. I didn't feel comfortable borrowing Louisa's panties, so I'm bare beneath the skirt. Calder watches the fabric fall around my ankles and then raises his eyes to mine once more. It's all I can do not to throw myself into his arms.
I pass the dress over to him, but he hardly seems to notice. Meanwhile, I'm hyper-aware of everything: the rough fabric of the seat against my bare skin, the cold air on my nipples, the tiny hairs lifting on the back of my neck. I'm aware of the way Calder smells, his natural, manly scent only enhanced by the damp in the air. I'm aware of each of his breaths, to the point that my own breathing begins to match its rhythm.