She looks at me over her shoulder, then nods.
I’d draw this moment out if she was wearing anything else. That plump ass is barely covered. I don’t need it in my face when I’m parked in her aunt’s driveway. Not when I’ve done some of the filthiest shit to it in my head.
“Reed!” she squeals as I toss her up into the truck. Her body slides across the bench seat to the driver’s side with the force of my hands.
Fuck, I forgot she weighs nothing. I could’ve thrown her clear through the window.
She moves back over where I meant to put her, her mouth fighting a smile. “Eager?” she asks through a subtle laugh. Her fingers rake through her dark hair, untangling it at the ends. It’s wavier than it was the other day. Disheveled from the lift I just gave her. I imagine this is what it looks like after she’s rolled around in a bed. Or the aftermath of fucking her in the bed of my truck.
Why? Why would you give yourself that image?
“Reed.”
“Yeah?” My eyes snap to hers, pulling away from the fingers in her hair.
Her hand reaches blindly for the harness. “I asked if you were eager.” She studies me with curiosity.
I probably look like a creep with a hair fetish.
“Yeah,” I say, finally giving her an answer before shutting the door.
I am fucking eager. The shoes aren’t helping. That fucking dress isn’t helping. Beth isn’t helping.
I climb up into the truck and start it up. I pray she’s buckled because I can’t handle strapping her in right now. Not when I know how close my hands will be to the parts of her I want to taste.
“You good?” I ask, backing out of the driveway, my eyes on the rear-view mirror.
“Mm. Yeah. A little nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?” I shift into first gear and risk a quick look in her direction. Her head is turned away as she stares out the passenger window.
“I know I’m going to kiss you again tonight.”
“Right.” My knuckle cracks as I squeeze the steering wheel.
“I’m just nervous about it,” she adds, her voice growing quiet. “Not because I don’t want to kiss you. I just don’t want to feel like I have to do it.”
I slow to a stop at the end of the street, then look over at her. “If you feel that way, don’t kiss me.” She turns her head and our eyes lock. “We can be a couple who doesn’t do PDA. There’s no reason why we have to be all over each other for this to be believable. And you shouldn’t be doing anything you don’t want to do. Not with me or anybody else.”
“I don’t think I’ll feel that way. I don’t feel that way right now.” She shifts her gaze to the dashboard. “When I kissed you before, I wanted to do it. If I kissed you right now, it would be because I wanted to do it. But when we walk in there, everything you do is going to be for her to see. If you kiss me, it’ll be for her. I don’t want to feel like I’m kissing you back because I have to play along.”
“If I kiss you, that’s going to be for me. Not for some bitch I don’t give a shit about.”
Her mouth falls open with the softest gasp. “Oh.”
I look past her shoulder to clear traffic, then drive forward. My gaze shifts between the road and her profile, lingering on the latter.
“Don’t be nervous. Just be how you are with me. And quit looking away when you need to tell me something.”
The corner of her mouth lifts slightly. She tucks her hair behind her ear, pulls her shoulders back, and reaches into her small purse.
“Do you know where Swan Harbor is?” she asks, pulling out a teal blue card and studying it.
I grind my jaw. My head falls back against the seat as I inhale through my nose.
If that shit wasn’t already printed on that fucking invitation, I’d swear Molly picked this venue just to see if I reacted to it.
“Yeah,” I answer, shifting gears as I cut through traffic. I’m suddenly ready to get this night over with. Ready to show up, prove I don’t give a damn, and leave with Beth on my arm.
Swan Harbor. What a cunt.
“I know exactly where it is.”
BETH LEANS AS CLOSE TO the dash as her harness allows as I drive down the rocky path. She’s straining to see the source of the light and music in the distance, but the packed parking lot isn’t making that task easy.
Some asshole in a bowtie signals me with a flashlight in his hand to keep moving.
No, I was planning on parking right fucking here. Block people from getting out.
“Look at this dipshit. We get it. File in behind the car in front of you.” I gesture with an open palm at the kid, who indicates for me to pull into a spot. His flashlight illuminates the grass with quick streaks of light.
“You okay over there?”
I pull into the spot and glare at the bowtie wearing douche. “He’s probably making more than I do in a day for two hours of shining a damn flashlight.”
The kid smiles at me, clearly hearing what I’d just said through my cracked window. He tugs at his bowtie and takes a step back. I lift my chin.