I've been into drabble-writing, so I'm releasing this one into the world.

I s a.

I'm running kinda late, tapping my foot and fidgeting with the clasp of my bracelet as the streetlights pass slowly. Too fucking slowly.

"God, this is so annoying," I mutter.

Jake's eyes meet my own in the rearview mirror, his lips lifting at the corners.

"I told you this area of town is an absolute nightmare this time of day." I roll my eyes at his words. "Who meets at five-thirty for dinner, anyway?"

I shrug, not giving up more information than I have to. He's here to drive, and to make sure I'm safe and okay. These days Jake's violating my 'no judgement' policy more often than not. Frankly, he's getting quite annoying, acting above his pay grade like this.

Scrolling through my phone, I ignore the e-mails and go straight through the Maps app, breaking eye contact with Jake.

"Just drop me off here, it's only an eight-minute walk."

"I'm not letting you go out by yourself, Isa."

My next glance at him might be filed under the 'murderous' category. But I've had it with him. And it's not even twenty past five, yet.

"It's raining cats and dogs, too. I wouldn't want you to catch a cold."

"Who signs your payslip, again?" I cock my head to the side, my hoop earring meeting the side of my neck.

Jake holds up his hands in surrender before he pulls into the parking slot at the side of the road.

I thank my lucky stars for dressing casually, and pull the hood of my trench coat over my meticulously curled hair in attempt to shield it from the downpour, and head outside, my feet immediately wet, drops of rain slipping down the bridge of my foot, into the patent leather.

Craptastic fall weather.

My phone keeps vibrating in my clutch, the inside of my arm almost getting a workout out of this as I make my way down to the restaurant, dodging puddles and making sure the rain doesn't fuck up my mascara. But I'll be damned if I call up Jake to pick my wet ass up and give him some sort of savior-complex.

"Good evening, Miss. Lovely weather, isn't it?"

I look up, the valet guy smiling down at me, looking as rained-down as I do.

"Yeah, my car broke down," I lie. He gives me a compassionate expression.

"I'd loan you one, but then I'd be out of a job." It sounds like a joke but he's studying my face, eyes roaming down my silhouette. My coat is plastered to my body, giving away every curve and detail. I might as well wear a white T-shirt at this point.

I ignore his ogling and make my way inside, prying the soaked hood off my hair, shaking it out behind me after I get out of the poor excuse of a coat I'm wearing. It is definitely not worth the money I dropped on it.

"Damn, are you okay?"

I'd open my mouth to answer if I wasn't trying so hard to keep it closed, keeping myself from drooling all over the fucking floors. The deep voice belonging to him makes him even more alluring. It's deep and dark and luxurious with that certain edge. I'm purring on the inside, like a needy little stray cat craving her first human experience.

Sure, I'd seen what he looked like…seen pictures and done my research. But I wasn't prepared for how untouched all those images really were.

Pulling my act together, I run a hand through the damp ends of my hair, looking at the wet fabric hanging from my index finger.

"Burberry is a total scam, it seems," I try, breaking the ice.

It works. He laughs. It's melodic and hoarse and beautiful.

"I'll make sure to remember that come Monsoon season." His emerald eyes sparkle with mischief. Boyish charm and wit? Check.

"Sorry for the wet Persian cat thing I've got going on," I apologise, pointing at my hair. I guess casual is my general theme for the night. "That wasn't really what I was aiming towards."

I'm rewarded another chuckle.

"We're only human, right?" He licks his lips, that smile still haunting his face.

"I've been referred to as divine before," I joke.

"Your reputation precedes you," he says back with a low voice.

For the first time in forever, I blush at his words.