The heavy door of the sedan clicked shut with a dense, airtight thud that instantly swallowed the distant rumble of the studio lot generator. Inside, the car smelled of rich leather, faint cedarwood, and the clean chill of the mist clinging to Nina's sweater. Lucas stepped around the hood, his large frame casting a brief shadow across the windshield before he settled into the driver's seat.
He didn't speak as he turned the key. The engine purred to life, a low-frequency vibration humming straight through the base of Nina's spine. He shifted into drive, his hands moving over the wheel with practiced, casual fluidity, and pulled out into the dark road.
