Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 73: The Drive

"What took you so long?"

Mike’s whisper in my ear is hot and wet, causing me to flinch almost violently away from him. "Sorry, what?" frёewebnoѵēl.com

"I said, what took you so long?"

I grimace, trying to look upset. "Sorry, Mike. I have a stomachache. I think I need to go home."

"Oh no, that’s terrible!" Someone’s voice drips with insincerity. I can’t tell who’s talking, because my vision barely focuses on any of them. I’m too busy worrying about the stupid panther-person’s vague warning. "We were just getting started."

I force a weak smile in someone’s direction. Maybe it was her talking. Who knows. "Such a shame. Sorry, everyone."

There’s a chorus of fake sympathies. I nod, playing along with their charade of concern. My skin crawls with the need to flee.

Mike leans in close, his breath hot on my ear once again. Gross. "I’ll walk you back. It’s not safe out there for a lady alone."

My stomach twists, and this time it’s not an act. "That’s really not necessary. I’ll be fine."

"Nonsense!" Mike’s hand clamps down on my shoulder. "I insist."

The others chime in with full-blown encouragement that makes my head spin. I want to tell them all to leave me alone, but my mouth remains closed.

Stupid societal niceties and workplace politics.

"Well, if you insist," I mutter, resigned to my fate.

We step out into the cool night air, and I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head. Mike’s presence beside me is suffocating. He walks too close, his arm brushing against mine with every step.

"So, Nicole," he starts, his voice low and what I assume he thinks is seductive. "It’s been a crazy few weeks, huh?"

I grunt noncommittally, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead. The office isn’t far. I can make it.

Mike stumbles, bumping into me hard enough to make me stagger. His hand finds my waist, steadying me. "Whoa, sorry about that. These sidewalks, am I right?"

I bite back a retort about his coordination and force a tight smile. "No problem."

His hand lingers, and I have to physically step away to break the contact. My skin crawls where he touched me.

"You know," Mike continues, undeterred, "I’ve always admired you, Nicole. Your work ethic, your... dedication."

I quicken my pace, desperate to reach the safety of my car.

Mike matches my stride, his arm swinging wide to brush against mine. "I was thinking, maybe we could grab dinner sometime. You know, outside of work."

Okay. He’s never going to let up if I keep beating around the bush.

"I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mike."

"Why not?" He sounds genuinely confused, as if he can’t fathom why I wouldn’t want to spend more time with him. "We work well together. I think we could have a lot of fun. I’m sure you’re lonely since... well, you know, the thing with Scott."

The thing with Scott.

What a way to describe someone’s murder.

I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to tell him exactly what I think of his idea of fun. Instead, I opt for diplomacy. "I’m not really in a place for dating right now. With everything that’s happened..."

I let the sentence trail off, hoping he’ll fill in the blanks himself. To my relief, the office building is just ahead.

A short walk made interminable with his company.

Mike’s hand finds the small of my back, guiding me towards the parking lot. "I understand. But sometimes, the best way to move on is to, well, move on. You know?"

I step away from his touch, fishing my keys out of my purse. "I appreciate the thought, Mike, but really, I’m good."

We reach my car, and I fumble with the lock, desperate to put a barrier between us. Mike leans against the driver’s side door, effectively trapping me.

"Come on, Nicole. One dinner. What’s the harm?"

The frustration bubbles up inside me, threatening to spill over. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. "Mike, I said no. Please respect that."

"Alright, alright. I can take a hint. But if you change your mind..."

"I won’t," I say firmly, yanking open the car door. "Goodnight, Mike."

I slide into the driver’s seat and slam the door shut, locking it immediately. Through the window, I see Mike’s face, contorted into ugly anger before he smooths it out again.

I start the engine, and he knocks on my window.

I hesitate, my hand hovering over the window control. With a sigh, I lower the window a crack.

"What?"

Mike’s eyes are glassy. "Nicole, I... actually, I think I’ve had too much to drink. Can you give me a ride home?"

Great. Just great. "I can call you a rideshare, Mike. That’s probably safer for both of us."

Before I can reach for my phone, Mike’s starts ringing. He fumbles it out of his pocket, nearly dropping it twice before answering.

"Hello? Oh, hey. Yeah, we made it safe to her car. I’m pretty drunk, though, so Nicole’s gonna take me home."

My jaw drops. The audacity of this man. I open my mouth to protest, but Mike’s already chattering away.

"Don’t worry about it. I’m in good hands."

This is how it happens. This is how women end up in these impossible situations with men who can’t take no for an answer. I take a deep breath, steeling myself.

"Mike, I really think it would be better if you took a taxi."

I hear an indignant squawk from the other end of the line. Mike pulls the phone away from his ear slightly, and I catch snippets of an angry tirade.

"...she said what? Is she seriously telling you to take a taxi instead of driving you herself?"

I close my eyes, frustration bubbling up inside me. This can’t be happening. When I open them again, Mike’s no longer at the window. Instead, he’s sliding into my passenger seat, phone still pressed to his ear.

"No, no, it’s fine," he says, waving his free hand. "Nicole was just joking. She’s taking me home now. Right, Nicole?"

He looks at me expectantly, a smug smile playing on his lips. I can feel the judgment radiating through his phone, the unspoken accusations of being a bad colleague, a heartless bitch.

All things I would have shrugged off when I didn’t give a shit about the gossip mill. But this time, I want in on it. I need as much information as I can get—for my safety, and for Logan’s.

"Fine," I grit out. "What’s your address?"

Mike rattles off a street name, and I punch it into my phone’s GPS. As the route loads, anxiety coils in my stomach. The panther’s warning echoes in my mind, sending a chill down my spine.

What if Mike’s the problem tonight?

I shake my head, trying to dispel the paranoid thoughts. But they linger, whispering what-ifs. What if Mike ends up dead, and I’m left to explain why his corpse is in my car? I mean, stranger things have actually happened to me.

"You okay there, Nicole?" Mike’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "You look a little pale."

I force a tight smile. "I’m fine. Just tired. Let’s get you home." But first, I shoot off a quick text to Penelope.

[NICOLE: Driving a drunk co-worker home. Was at a work party and left early because I’m not feeling well.]

It isn’t much, but at least someone knows what I’m doing. Just in case.

As I pull out of the parking lot, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m driving straight into trouble.

The streets are eerily quiet as we drive, the silence in the car broken only by Mike’s occasional attempts at small talk. I keep my responses short, focusing on the road and trying to ignore the prickling sensation at the back of my neck.

"You know," Mike slurs, leaning towards me, "you’re really something special, Nicole. Not like the other girls in the office."

I grip the steering wheel tighter. "Thanks, Mike. But please, let’s just get you home safely."

He chuckles, the sound grating on my nerves. "Always so professional. That’s what I like about you. But you can let loose sometimes, you know? Like tonight."

I bite back a retort about how I did nothing but sit there and nurse a single drink. I didn’t even talk.

As we turn onto Mike’s street, relief washes over me. Just a few more minutes, and this nightmare will be over. I pull up to the curb in front of his apartment building, throwing the car into park.

"Here we are," I announce, perhaps a bit too cheerfully. "Home sweet home."

Mike doesn’t move. He’s staring at me, a strange look in his eyes that makes my skin crawl. "You wanna come up for a nightcap?"

"No, thank you," I say firmly. "I need to get home."

He leans in closer, his breath on my cheek. "Come on, Nicole. Live a little. Scott’s gone. You’re free now."

Anger flares, hot and sudden. "Mike, get out of my car. Now."

Something in my tone must finally get through to him. He blinks, then fumbles for the door handle. "Alright, alright. No need to get upset. I was just trying to be friendly."

As he stumbles out of the car, I let out a shaky breath. The tension in my body starts to ease, but the nagging worry lingers. I watch Mike make his way to the building entrance, swaying slightly.

Once he’s inside, I breathe a soft sigh of relief.

Safe. Nothing bad happened. I’m fine.

Everything’s fine.