Текст книги "Blue"
Автор книги: H. J. Bellus
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
Chapter 5
“You know Lane is a dick. Did he really think this was an outfit?”
Sophie giggles as the sunlight shines off her glossy black hair. “Hey, you’d just passed out and he was helping us.”
“Whatever, he was rushing to get back to the house to bone you in the shower.”
“We didn’t have sex in the shower.”
“Oh, really?”
“Fine, we did, and it was even better than the first time.”
I try not to gag and send her a look warning her that I don’t need any details, not even one. I keep my arms crossed over my abdomen, feeling naked as we walk back to the dorms.
“Slow down, Blue. I think I have shin splints from this morning.”
“Too bad. I’m wearing a pink polka-dot sports bra with lime green spandex shorts. I’m really not in the mood to walk leisurely.”
There’s zero doubt in my mind that Lane knew what he was doing when he grabbed our clothes. Sophie wears hers proudly, strutting back to the dorms, and I just don’t understand the girl sometimes.
“What do you know about Tuck?” I finally ask her.
“Who is Tuck?”
“Never mind.”
“Tell me. You can’t play the never mind card with me.” She uses her fingers, air quoting her words.
“He’s a guy.”
“No shit. Spill.”
“He’s on the football team and intrigues me.”
I pray like hell something shiny distracts Sophie from further questioning.
“And?” she pushes.
I’m tempted to scream bear or fire to see if that gets her off topic, but instead her cellphone rings and distracts her.
“My mom,” she says, rolling her eyes.
I let her take the call and walk several steps ahead of her to get to my dorm room. I need a long nap before tonight’s barbecue.
“Blue.”
Shading my eyes from the sun, I notice Stephie walking my way. What did I do to piss off Satan now?
“I just want to say sorry for giving you the short end of the stick these past couple days.”
I want to correct her and say day and a half, but decide to use my better judgment.
“Thanks.”
“No, I really mean it, Blue. I know you’re not a slut and didn’t do anything with Ethan, and I was just being mean.”
“Okay, thanks.” I turn to walk off and bite my tongue to keep from congratulating her on using the word slut once again in my presence.
“I really mean it,” she hollers.
What the hell does this chick want? Does she want me to hug her, hold hands, and sing? Or probably, knowing control freaks like her, she wants me to lick the bottom of her shoes and praise her for her almighty awesomeness.
I look back and send her a quick smile, not wanting her to think I’m ignoring her. Just like my dad always told me growing up, a snake is a snake no matter what skin they’re wearing.
I replay today’s events in my mind as I sink into my bed and burrow deep under my comforter. From the towel folding, to running, passing out, Tuck, Stephie, that Twinkie, and right back to Tuck, my mind refuses to stop analyzing every little thing, but it comes back to Tuck. My eyes close as the sweetest dreamy sensation floats through me just thinking of Tuck carrying me to his house, his posture on the couch, and then his stance at the end of the hallway. The more the man refuses to talk or let me get to know him more, the more I want him.
I guess a girl can always dream about you, Tuck.
Chapter 6
The barbeque is a hit, and I almost blush when Coach Lindsey catches me going in for thirds. Key word—almost. The food is delicious, with a gorgeous array of fish, chicken, and steak all grilled to perfection, adorned with veggies with similar grill marks. There is something about the tangy taste of the onions and green peppers that leaves my stomach wanting more. I manage to escape the looks of Trainer Jay, who is the chef for the evening, but not Coach.
“I’m real proud of you, Blue,” she says as I trail down her curving, perfectly stamped, paved sidewalk. I just nod at her compliment, rub my full belly, and study each of the different colored hexagons stamped on the sidewalk. As shitty as the day turned out, tonight’s dinner makes up for it.
Even Stephie is mysteriously quiet and quite polite toward me and Sophie. Snake, snake, snake…she’s a snake, I repeat over and over in my mind, and then offer her a quaint little grin. I’d be a fool to make an enemy out of her and call her bluff, but I’m sure in the hell not going to go out of my way to lick her asshole.
“Ewww.” I groan at my own thoughts.
“What?” Sophie stops dead in her tracks and turns to face me with a questioning face.
“Nothing.” I wave her off with my right hand while I gently continue to rub circles with my other hand on my belly.
“What?” she demands once again.
I can already tell Sophie’s the nosy-ass type that would take the time out of her day to figure out who farted in a room full of people, even pulling out the detective card and not giving in until the mystery was settled. She reminds me of my own mother. Not that my mother was a fart sniffer, by any means, but she sure didn’t let anyone fire off a deadly one in her company. It’s always best to spill it with these types of people, even if it makes no sense and contains absolutely no meaning at all, just to forgo the third degree, stare down, and guilt trips.
“I’m not going to lick Stephie’s asshole.” I throw up both my hands in the air, surrendering to her. “See, are you happy? My own freaking thought grossed me out, and I said eewww.”
“I’m not going to even ask why you were thinking of Stephie and her butthole in the same sentence.” Sophie’s face dances with disgust and a tiny hint of questioning.
“Thank you.” Taking two long strides, I catch up to the still half-disgusted Sophie and wrap my arm around hers. We chose to walk to the barbeque tonight, and now in the dark night without roaring traffic filling the streets, I realize it was dumb. Yes, a very dumb decision for two eighteen-year-old girls to make. We had no business being off campus at this time of night and walking alone. I know the stories of a local string of murders and rapes filling the news, which Trainer Jay shared with us over dinner, and it didn’t help matters. I know three quarters of the goose bumps forming on my skin are due to my overzealous imagination.
“Quit worrying.”
“What?” I freeze. “I’m not worrying.”
“Oh really, you just chewing your bottom lip for an extra shot of protein?”
I shove her shoulder and then flip her the bird with my other hand. “We are two young, dumb girls walking the streets in the dark like Trainer Jay was talking about.”
The roar of an engine cuts off my speech, and we turn to see an extremely jacked-up silver Dodge with all the bells and whistles.
“See, I called Prince Charming for us.”
I see Lane’s face as he slowly rolls down the tinted window.
“Fuck,” I mumble to myself. If Lane is in there, that means Ethan is there.
As if on cue, he hollers from the back seat, “Ladies, want a ride?”
At this point, I’d rather jog home, but then I’m reminded of my full belly and screaming muscles and hesitantly follow Sophie over to the truck.
“We only have one other seat.”
Lane crawls out and lets Sophie sit in the middle beside him. Ethan pats his lap from the back seat. All of the glorious food I enjoyed before now roils around and threatens to paint the sidewalk. I’m going to have to have a serious talk with Ethan about the excessive flirting and instill a strict friend code with severe consequences if the code is broken.
My glance darts to all the seats in the truck and notice every single one of them is taken by their fellow teammates, and then my vision lands on Tuck, who is huddled up in the back corner of the truck, sitting on the opposite end from Ethan.
“C’mon, it’s just a seat, not a date.” Ethan pats his lap again and licks his lips.
“Forget this.” I continue down the sidewalk. “I’d rather walk back on my own.”
The truck creeps along the road while I walk. I fight like hell to avoid making eye contact with any of them, or acknowledge the obnoxious truck inching along with me.
“Just go, you guys.” I try waving them off.
I look up and see some rustling going on in the back seat, and I’m pretty sure Ethan’s body was just thrown across the back of the truck. I keep walking, focusing on each time my foot hits the pavement and cuss my dumb ass out for eating so much, because I’d do anything in this moment to sprint.
Moments and several steps go by, then the silver back door opens. I don’t have a chance to jump away before I’m scooped up in someone’s arms and plopped down on a lap. The sound of the door shutting and the engine roaring to life fill the cab of the truck as it lunges forward, causing me to fall deeper back into my seat.
I immediately notice Tuck has me on his lap, and when I make eye contact I feel his hands move from my bare thighs. Looking down, I see he has his palms stretched out on either side of his legs, firmly planted on the seat. Glancing back to my bare thigh, I feel the sting of his hand vanishing. It was only there a second, but sent a jolting amount of pleasure strumming through my whole body.
I know we only have a few private seconds in the dark before the rest of the truck invades our tiny space. I study his gorgeous face and smile when I recognize that strong jawline in the moonlight shining through the window. A slight stubble peppers his face, and it’s something I’ve never picked up before, but then again I’ve never been this close to the man. However, his black hoodie is familiar, with the hood hooked up over his head and beanie safely tucked underneath it.
Without breaking eye contact, I grab his left hand that rests next to the door, and his muscles go taut as I do. I’d give anything to feel his skin instead of the hoodie between us, but my thigh will have to do. And I thank the creator of very short shorts. I guide his hand back on to the top of my thigh and am slightly shocked when he follows my lead.
I lean back on his chest and realize how expansive the man is. I fit perfectly on one side of him and know I could easily snuggle in, throwing my arms around his neck and flexing my hips back into him, but I don’t. My back simply relaxes on his left shoulder. Turning my head, I let my lips lightly brush against his stubble and feel the tickle of each tiny hair, and a large smile spreads across my face. I take the path back to his ear very slowly.
And when I finally get there and that stubble is gone, my smile slowly fades. “You are the only one allowed to touch me.”
His hand tightens on the flesh of my leg, and I gasp.
“Blue.”
His whisper is more of a growl, and I know exactly what’s coming next. And I have no idea why I’m so magnetized to him.
“I know, Tuck, you don’t do people or talk or anything human. I know.”
The cab of the truck fills with Outkast singing Roses, and I’m a little stunned when both of Tuck’s hands connect with my hips as he centers me in his lap. My back immediately mourns the loss of his solid chest. He pushes up as we settle in our new position and his message takes no words to convey. It’s clearly pressed against my ass, and it makes me smile. Peeking over my shoulder, I let Tuck see my smile, but he only shoots back his dark gaze.
Our ride comes to bitter end, and I notice we are outside Tuck’s house.
“Stop one, boys.”
Without a word or as much as a glance back in my direction, Tuck hops out, leaving me on the cold seat of the truck. The remainder of the guys also get out, with the exception of douche bag Ethan, Lane, and Sophie. Of course Sophie and Lane are practically humping while he starts driving in the direction of the dorms.
My heart breaks. Wait, it can’t break because I don’t technically love Tuck, so maybe my ego fucking shatters with his reaction to me. I want to get to know the man, flirt with him, spend time with him…all the shit Ethan wants to do with me, I want with Tuck, and yet it seems he finds me as annoying as I find Ethan.
When the truck comes to a stop, I let all my manners fly straight out the window as I bolt for the dorms. I even forget to greet the security guard. I’m beyond being nice and just want my bed. It’s a welcome sight being greeted by a dark dorm room. I strip down and find an over-sized cheer shirt I got at camp years ago and go snuggle deep down in my bed. My sheets smell like home, and it might be the only thing that can hold me together. I grab my phone and FaceTime my mother.
Of course she answers immediately. Her screen is as black as mine, and I know she and my father are in bed as well. Even in my high school years, I’d cuddle between the two of them when I’d endured a difficult day, and that’s what I want now.
“Blue, you look so black.” I hear my dad laugh at his corny-ass joke.
“I miss you guys.”
I roll my eyes at the sound of my mom sighing and my dad saying, “I told you so, I won the bet.”
I get lost talking to the black screen as all three of us share our days, and I know my mother cringes just like I do when my father shares some of his experience in the ER. The man is the best surgeon around. My mom warns me about the crime that Trainer Jay talked about at the barbecue, and I tell her to keep her ass off of Fox News. We all get our fill of giggles and chuckles before we hang up, and even as silly as it seems, I kiss the screen two times before hanging up.
I lazily begin to drift off as I keep my cellphone clutched to my chest, and I wish I had Tuck’s number. I have to get him off my mind. When sleep is about to finally win out, the door flies open and reveals one silhouette. Sophie hurries to shut the door and uses enough courtesy to not flip on the lights. I hear her rustle around in her drawers looking for clothes to wear, and then she climbs in my bed.
“That was the best sex ever, Blue.”
“Eww! Get your sex-soaked body out of my bed.” I push her away as her giggles fill the room.
“We did it in the showers.” She flicks a lock of her long hair on my shoulder.
“How?” I don’t believe a word she says.
“Ethan was lookout, and we took our time. He even went down…”
“Whoa, whoa. Shut up.”
Sophie laughs hard, shaking the bed. The little fucker loves taunting me with their sexcapades.
“But, Blue, for reals, Lane and Ethan both told me to warn you about Tuck.”
Now the little ass has my full attention. “Why?”
“Because they say they’ve never met an angrier person than him.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s not angry, just reserved.”
“They’ve known him a bit longer than you and are on the team with him. They’re genuinely concerned for you.”
“Tell them not to be.”
Sophie slaps me hard across the face with another lock of wet hair, leaving behind a stinging trail on my cheek.
“He sounds dangerous, Blue.”
“Well, I’m saying don’t worry because he has no interest in me at all. Period. End of story. Don’t want to talk about it again.”
Chapter 7
Routine. It’s the vitamin that keeps my blood pumping through my veins. It’s taken two weeks to get a routine down pat, and I can say I’m finally over the homesick stage. Cheer practice, lunch, more workout, a yoga class, and then more cheer practice. Learning all new dances and cheers has been difficult, and not because of my skill level, but learning to work with new teammates. Stephie has been true to her word and kept her distance. She and Ethan made up days after their dramatic break-up, and I couldn’t be more thankful because he treats me like a flesh-eating disease. I love it.
Sophie still enters the dorm room late at night sated and with rubbery legs from Lane’s rabid love-making skills, and she sure as shit still tries to give me blow-by-blow action. I always act disgusted, but deep down I’m jealous, and pretend it’s Tuck doing those things to me.
Ah…Tuck. Unfortunately for my heart, but fortunately for my lady parts, he also became part of my routine, and I tingle every night when his scent joins me. Damn, I really make that sound hot and sexy, when in reality it’s only hot. He finds me each night on the jogging trail when I’m sweating and hot as hell as I push my body harder and faster. I’ve never spooked and performed gymnastics for him since the first night. When he catches up to me or I catch up to him, we find a steady pace and finish our workouts together.
Some nights he picks the paths, and some nights I do, and it all happens with no words. It’s just the sound of his pounding feet and the scent I have, and trust me, I soak it all in each night and then memorize it as I fall asleep.
I refuse to be the first to talk to him. He knows I want to be friends, and I clearly know he has the ability to pop a boner for me, so yeah, I’m pretty sure the ball is in his court. It may be a deflated ball with no hope, but it’s still in his court. And I hate to admit it’s my favorite part of the day. Even when my muscles are pushed to the edge of ripping, I go running just to see and smell Tuck. And when I say see, all I see is a dark hoodie or long sleeve shirt with a beanie on his head and long gym shorts.
I want more of him. I yearn to see more of his gorgeous skin, and every single time we run underneath a light I take the chance to study his beautiful face. Most of the time he’s doing the same to me, and I know I get to him whenever I see his strong jaw flex.
Tonight is one of the biggest mixers before school starts. All the athletes will be in attendance along with their coaches, so it’s not going to be a rager or anything. But leave it up to Sophie and Lane to have the hook-up on the after party. My body lies limp on the bed, exhausted and with no motivation to go to this mixer.
Sophie tosses dress after dress out of her closet. Some she holds up to her body and checks the view in the full size mirror, and others are an automatic no. She stands in a matching bra and undies, and I know it’s only a matter of hours before those babies get shredded.
She’s left with an empty closet and a mound of clothes behind her, and some that landed around me on my bed.
“Well, shit. I have nothing. Absolutely nothing. Why didn’t I schedule in a shopping trip this week?”
“Probably because you were too busy fucking Lane from one end of the campus to the other.” I don’t look up as I mindlessly scroll through my Facebook wall on my iPhone. It’s filled with old high school classmates and their selfies and bragging posts. It’s like my crack; it makes me sick, but I can’t seem to look away.
I spot a hot pink sun dress at the bottom of my bed and hook it with my big toe. I try to fling it over to Sophie, but it lands right on my face, and I giggle. Sophie is so distracted now, digging through her mole pile of clothes, that I re-adjust the dress on my toe and send it flying. This time it lands right on the top of her head.
“This one was my favorite. Pair it with your silver flats and pull up your hair.” I lie about the dress since I wasn’t paying attention. The simple fact is that Sophie would look drop dead gorgeous in a gunnysack, and Lane would fuck her right out of it.
“Thanks, Blue.” She bounds from the floor and begins getting ready.
Every once in a while I look up from my phone and admire the transformation Sophie is going through. I adjust the pillows under my head into a more comfortable position, cross my legs, and go back to Internet stalking. I’ve typed in Tuck’s name over and over and even stalked friends we might have in common…and nothing. Which is really not that surprising since he’s so damn private.
Our door bursts open and Lane grins over at his princess, who is now fully dressed and just finishing her make-up. I’ve come to terms with the fact we have an open door policy and don’t lounge in my panties and camisoles like I would at home. Nope, it’s always fully clothed here.
“Hi, Prince Charming.” I throw my phone to my side and smile at Lane. All in all, he’s turned out to be a great guy for my homefry.
He plops down on Sophie’s bed and tosses me a bag of candy. And he’s also discovered my vice…candy, anything sweet and sour. He also knows Sophie is never ready to bounce out the door unless it’s a late night booty call.
“Damn, Sophie, you look so fucking hot.” He sends her a wink, and she giggles. Their actions are actually genuine and super cute, but I’ll never let up on my front of gagging or rolling my eyes.
“Sit up.” Sophie stands at the bottom of my bed armed with a brush and some other hair items.
I raise an eyebrow at her.
“Sit up, I’m going to do your hair.” She throws the hair products on the bed. “You have the prettiest hair here and only keep it pulled up in a messy bun.”
“You do have gorgeous hair,” Lane adds around a mouthful of taffy, and then quickly remedies his comment to make mine second best to Sophie’s. I just giggle and sit up and let her have her way with me. I can smell styling products, heat from the curling iron, and Sophie’s perfume.
“What are you reading now?” Lane asks.
“Facebook. I haven’t started a new book.”
“You mean a new porno?”
I toss a wrapper in his direction.
“You know, Blue, YouTube has all sorts of good free porn,” Lane says through his laughter. Well, his laughter cuts off when he gets a sharp look from Sophie. “Baby, it’s research. I learn new moves.”
She shrugs and then blows him a kiss, and I promptly make a gagging noise.
“I read romance stories. They are not porn. It’s more like fairytales.”
“Okay, done. Look in the mirror.”
I stand from the bed and have to give it to Sophie. She has my hair spot-on perfect. Loose curls lay all over with my long bangs pinned off to the side and some slight volume on the top. My curls are even soft enough to run my fingers through.
A tiny grin covers my face and I shrug. “It’s okay.”
“Shut up. Pick a dress.” She points to the mounds and mounds of clothes on the ground.
“I’m wearing this.” I point to my shorty shorts and lacy tank top.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not. I’m done hanging out with a perma-athlete who never dresses up. Pick a dress, bitch.”
Lane always gets uncomfortable when we throw naughty words at each other.
“Okay, I’ll wait out there with Noah.” He points toward the lounge.
“We’ve brought a date along for you. Now wear something nice.”
“You what?” I yelp.
There’s nothing quiet or nice about what just came out of my mouth.
“A date.”
“No.”
“He’s not Ethan. Trust me. He’s one of Lane’s teammates. He is very polite, quiet, and a good catch.”
“You’re a bitch and totally just broke the fucking friend code. I’m wearing this, end of fucking story.”
I toss on my plainest pair of flip-flops and follow her out the door. The two men stand up, and I can’t deny the man-candy they dragged along for me is fucking hot. His tan biceps bulge from his team t-shirt, and his sandy brown hair is long and shaggy, hanging in his eyes, but there’s just enough of the blue shining through to make my heart pitter a bit.
Sophie makes introductions, and he’s kind enough to extend a hand, so I react and shake it. Sophie makes an awing noise, and then I remember how many forks I want to stab in her eyeballs right now.
“I’ll be right back. I forgot my purse.”
Sophie gives me a sideways stare, fully knowing I’m a pocket girl. I’m going to show that twat-waffle just how much I appreciate being surprise-attacked via a gorgeous muscle man. Racing back into the room, I throw my hair up into a ponytail, erasing all of Sophie’s styling, and then notice my Aztec print balloon style pants crumpled in a corner and decide to throw those bad boys on as well. Now looking back into the mirror, my normal high pony stares back at me with my short tank top and crazy ass pants. A hint of my skin shines through above the hem of my hammer-time pants, and I feel the desire to hike the bad boys up Urkel style, but giggle and decide against it.
Sophie hates these pants, and they just happen to be one of my favorite pairs. I’ve always been known to have a different sense when it comes to style. Yep, I’m usually a month or two ahead of the current trends, so I’m used to others harassing me about my hideous choices.
“Blue, let’s go,” Sophie hollers from the lobby in a spine-chilling cheer voice that I’m pretty sure floors four through seven heard as well.
I don’t waste another moment and bustle out of the room. I stare right at her and silently give her the “paybacks suck, you bitch” stare.
“All right, let’s go.”
We all make our way to the elevator, and it’s not until we are out in the sunshine of the parking lot that Noah speaks up.
“Your purse. You went back for you purse and you don’t have it.”
His concern is quite swoony, and, well, downright panty melting. I’ll give it to Sophie; he is nothing like Ethan at all.
I wave him off with a sly little grin. “Oh, it’s fine.”
As we all climb in Lane’s friggin’ monster truck, Sophie just has to pipe up.
“Quite the magician, purse to hobo outfit change.”
I didn’t miss the snark lacing Sophie’s voice. I just shrug back at her. Lane picks up on the uncomfortable mood and takes over the conversation. I’m thankful he doesn’t require me to be an active participant as he goes on about football practice and how hot the defense is this year.
Noah, like the perfect gentleman, takes a seat behind Lane on the driver’s side, as I’m on the other side, behind the empty passenger seat. Sophie is nearly dry humping Lane as he drives. I glance over at Noah and am relieved that he’s immersed in Lane’s conversation. I take him in from head to toe and realize he’s a freakin’ god with a perfect face and the most beautiful body. Only his strong biceps are visible, but I can imagine what’s under the rest of his clothes. Maybe, just maybe, he might be my perfect escape from my lust for Tuck, or at least curb my desires for the mystery man.
“So, Noah, you play football?” My fingernails dig into the skin of my palms, regretting such a lame conversation starter.
“Yeah, junior year, quarterback.” He shifts politely in his seat to make eye contact.
And if I were any normal girl, with his baby blue eyes, sandy curls, and deep voice, my panties should’ve spontaneously combusted. Hell, adding quarterback to the mix, I should’ve been on fire with hot lust and using some of Sophie’s quick-to-fuck moves. But nope, I just smile, admire his looks, and appreciate all the hard work he’s no doubt put in to be the quarterback for the University in which football is everything.
“Wow, quarterback. That’s huge. Congrats.” My butt slides a bit over on the navy blue leather seat, closing our distance.
“Yeah, Momma swears I came out holding a football.” He flashes his pearly whites at me.
I just picked up on his thick Southern accent. How in the hell I missed that before is beyond me. I think it was because I was trying to convince my panties to light on fire for this Adonis. Sophie sends me a quick little wink over her shoulder, not interrupting our conversation.
“That’s funny. My dad swears my mom went to a hypnotist and ate pom-poms while she was carrying me.” My hand lands on his thick thigh as we enjoy a moment of laughter, and I expect to feel a zing or at least a tingle. I’m no prude and know the excitement that courses through your body when new love or even lust is in the air, but nothing, zero, zilch.
Sophie takes a moment to interrupt our conversation and fills Noah in on my basketball scholarship and those talents, and how she swears I can run like a gazelle.
“Well, with legs like those, I’d pegged you for a b-ball kind of girl.”
I feel a blush cover my cheeks, and it’s not from his compliment, but from my asshole move and covering them up. This time his hand lands on my leg, and I don’t flinch. We carry on in conversation about our upbringings and high school days filled with nothing but one athletic venture after another. We even compare notes on high school practices compared to the University level. And I’m not quite sure when it happened, but I slide all the way over to him, now sitting in the middle of the back row. Shoulder to shoulder, we both have our iPhones out, sharing pictures of our homes, parents, siblings…well, siblings in his case.
“Why the name Blue?” Noah asks randomly.
I shrug; I’m used to being assaulted with this question all the time. “Well, you’ve probably picked up that my mom is a freak. Actually, beyond freak, probably more along the lines of an OCD gorilla. She knew I’d be an only child because of complications.” I twist my lips awkwardly, not really wanting to go into the history of my mother’s ovaries with Noah. “Anyway, I’d be an only child, and she’s always been determined to have me shine and stick out from the crowd.”
“That’s cool,” he replies.
I usually get the look of shallow disgust from people when I tell that story. In all honesty, I generally avoid the question, but Noah is easy to talk to and I can tell he’s really down to earth.
The truck comes to a halt and I realize we talked non-stop to our destination. An apology or four may be called for. It was fun having someone to talk to in a civilized fashion. Tuck treats me like a vile weed, Sophie and Lane are always humping like rabbits, and Ethan…well, Ethan is just rabid.
Noah slides out of the truck, and I glide back over the smooth leather to my side.
“Here.”
I look down to Noah standing on the black asphalt in his loose jeans and tight team t-shirt, smiling with his hand held out and gesturing to me. A smile instantly shines from me just like a giddy little eighth grader. Damn, these pants sure do make it easy to slide back and forth on this leather…always looking for the silver lining. I place my hand in his and let him guide me from the truck.
And yes, I glide out just like a princess in a modern day fairytale down into the arms of a knight in shining armor who melts panties in his kingdom. Or at least that’s how I picture it.
My damn pants catch on a piece of the door, sending me sailing down toward the not-so-cottony-soft asphalt. It’s kind of like when you see a snake or bear in the wild and you piss yourself and run. Yeah, I literally tinkle a bit before crashing into the surface and clenching my eyes shut. I let all common sense float up to the clouds.
As I wait to land face down, two arms wrap around me, and I squeal and pee a little more from being startled.
“Easy there, tiger.”
I look up to Noah’s dazzling smile and know this is the moment any other girl would wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down into her, thanking him with a kiss and savoring his taste on her tongue. Me, nope, just damp panties from a slight tinkle or two.
