The Drive

POV: Sumi

A humid warmth clung to the inside of the car — heavier than morning air, pressing subtly against Sumi’s skin. She tried to blame the weather, the long week, anything logical… but she knew better. The heat had a source, and he sat right beside her.

Eli lounged in the passenger seat with the careless confidence of someone who didn’t belong anywhere luxurious, yet somehow always fit. One arm over the door, the other on his thigh — drawing her eyes despite her better judgment.

“Thanks again,” he said, low and rough. “Didn’t think you’d actually take time out of your morning for me.”

The warmth in her chest was too quick, too eager. Why does that make me happy?

“It’s no trouble,” she said steadily. “I said I’d show you the clinic spaces.”

He gave a slow grin, almost boyish — almost. “Yeah. And thanks for this morning too.”

Her fingers froze on the wheel. “This… morning?”

“Yeah.” His voice grew softer, but somehow heavier. “The way you stood up for me. The way you shut Haruto down without even thinking.”

Her breath caught. “I didn’t—”

“You did,” he murmured. “And you liked it.”

Heat crawled up her neck. “That’s not— I wasn’t trying to—”

“Hey.” His voice dipped, calm and absolute. “It’s okay to enjoy it.”

She swallowed hard.

“You’re a powerful woman, Sumi. Strong. Respected. And when you do something for me…” He let the sentence linger, warm like a breath against her ear. “It feels good. To you.”

“That’s not— Eli—”

“It’s fine,” he continued. “You don’t get that with Haruto. You two barely look at each other anymore.”

Her chest tightened painfully. “That’s… not something you should say.”

He shrugged. “Truth doesn’t care if it hurts.” Then, lighter — dangerously light: “Besides… I didn’t miss the way you looked at me at the table. Like you were proud of shutting him down.”

Sumi’s knuckles whitened on the wheel. “That’s— that’s not true. And you shouldn’t talk like that.”

He smiled. “But I’m right.”

She hated that her pulse jumped.

“You like doing things for me,” he went on, tone growing softer, deeper, more persuasive. “You like helping me. Protecting me. Impressing me.”

Her throat dried. “Impress—?”

“You want me to see you,” he whispered. “To notice you. And I do.”

Her heart slammed once, violently.

“You’re magnetic,” he said. “Pretending otherwise doesn’t change it.”

A shiver rippled through her.

He leaned back, eyes dragging over her face. “Strong. Sharp. Impossible to ignore.”

Her breath hitched. She prayed he didn’t see it.

He did.

“You know, that bun you wear all the time…” His voice dipped. “It hides too much of you.”

“It’s practical,” she murmured weakly.

“You’re not just a doctor,” he murmured. “You’re a woman. A beautiful one. Let it breathe.”

Her hand lifted as if commanded. She loosened the tie. Dark hair spilled down around her shoulders.

Eli exhaled softly. “There she is.”

Sumi bit the inside of her cheek. Why do his words feel so good? Why did she feel seen for the first time in years?

“You know what I think?” Eli said quietly. “You’re looking for something real. Not safe. Not dull. Not… Haruto.”

Her chest twisted. “Eli— don’t.”

“You like strength,” he whispered. “And you like how it feels to be near it.”

Her gaze drifted toward him — toward the broad line of his shoulder, toward the relaxed sprawl of his legs, toward—

She snapped her eyes back to the road.

God, Sumi, stop it. He’s your daughter’s friend. You’re just helping him.

Yet a deeper voice whispered:

He’s a real man. When was the last time you felt this awake?

She **** a cough. “Your business plan— you’re serious about it?”

Eli chuckled. “Serious enough. But honestly? I’m more interested in the people involved.” His gaze slid over her. “Especially you.”

Her breath stopped.

“Eli— don’t.”

“Why not?” he whispered. “You want me to see you. Every part you hide from everyone else.”

Her foot pressed the accelerator too hard.

The engine growled.

Eli laughed softly. “There she is. You like speed. You like strength.”

Maybe she did.

She inhaled shakily.

And then—

Her thoughts spiraled faster than the car itself.

Why am I reacting like this? Why does every word he says feel like it lands somewhere I haven’t been touched in years?Why does it feel good to be noticed? To be seen?

She tried to steady her breathing, but every inhale carried the scent of him — warm skin, faint soap, a raw, masculine edge she couldn’t name. She hated how it made her pulse skip.

Her mind drifted where it shouldn’t: Eli standing his ground at breakfast… the way he didn’t flinch when anyone challenged him… Eli’s hands on her shoulders the night before. Those hands…Her breath stuttered. She gripped the steering wheel harder.

Stop thinking like that, Sumi. You’re a married woman. You’re a mother.But God… when was the last time Haruto even looked at you like Eli just did?

Her heart twisted painfully.

She sneaked a glance at him — at the relaxed sprawl of his legs, the solid weight of his shoulders, the little scar near his jaw. Rugged. Unpolished. Real.

Something heat-shocked fluttered low in her stomach.

He’s younger… off-limits... dangerous. So why does sitting next to him feel like waking up after years of sleep?

She inhaled sharply.

And then—

Blue lights flashed behind them.

“Oh no,” she whispered. “Not now—”

Eli sighed. “Figures.”