I slip my fingers out of my mouth, tracing the wetness along her jaw. “I could live with my mouth between your legs, Brooke. I could die there too.”
Her eyes fill with curiosity, and something else. Fear, maybe? Have I said too much?
I pull back and grip the wheel with both hands. My head hits the back of the seat.
Fuck, I had to say that, didn’t I? I couldn’t just say how fucking incredible she is? How I didn’t think it was possible for something to be sweet and fiery at the same time? Shit, even admitting I’m a full-blown addict after one bloody lick would’ve been a better response.
Why don’t you just propose right now, you tosser? Really go full-blown pathetic.
“Mason,” Brooke murmurs.
I shift my attention off the endless night sky and onto her.
She reaches for her belt. I can’t remember her ever taking it off.
“Can we drive some more? Maybe around here? The stars are insane right now.” She dials up the volume on the stereo, tilting her head to see out the windscreen. Ed Sheeran fills the car.
On second thought . . .
Maybe I haven’t spoken out of line at all?
Relief warms my blood. I melt against the seat as I shift the car into reverse.
We drive for hours, chasing the moonlight all over Chicago. Our conversation couldn’t be more random. We talk about everything. Her job, my home-life back in Australia, our favorite movies. Brooke rambles about her family, her sister Juls and her niece and nephew. How she’s living with Joey and his husband until she saves up enough for a place of her own. Sometimes we drive in silence, listening to the radio or nothing at all when Brooke grows agitated with the music selections. It’s comfortable, and easy. God, it’s easy talking to her. There’s no awkward pauses, no need to feel like you have to keep the conversation going. She makes a few more cracks about animals native to Australia, and whether or not I kept any of them as pets.
“Yeah,” I tell her, containing my amusement. “We kept a few crocs in our backyard. Mum didn’t care much for the safety of her children.”
She giggles into the night. The wind blows her hair around her and she tries frantically to tame it.
Fuck, she is precious.
I pull up in front of the Tavern after I catch a few yawns out of her. The footpath is quiet. It’s nearing 1:00 A.M. .
I feel wide awake. Drunk and high off Brooke. Reveling in this addiction I don’t want to fight.
She stares down at her lap after removing her seatbelt.
I fight the urge to drive off with her and bypass the goodbyes.
“I feel like you tricked me into agreeing to dinner,” she mumbles, looking over at me with a weak smile. “That seemed very calculated on your part.”
I lean across the console and kiss her cheek. “Not sure I know what you’re referring to. But calculated or not, you make the best sounds when you come.” I pull back, smiling at the heavy look that’s in her eyes, the same one she had in the field when I slid my finger over the smooth rise of her clit.
She wets her lips, then pulls the door handle and exits the car in a hurry.
“Yeah . . . okay, well, I guess I’ll see you this weekend sometime.”
“I’m just across the street, Brooke. You’ll see me before this weekend.”
She blinks rapidly, then nods once, her hand pushing her hair off her shoulder. “Mm. Right. You need to commit to your stalker status. It would be weird at this point if you didn’t follow me to get coffee, or do random drop-ins at my place of business.”
I chuckle, resting my elbow on the console. “What are you doing tomorrow morning?”
“Working.”
“Before that.”
She stares at me with the most curious expression. It’s so sweet I want to reach out and tug her back into the car, pull her against me, feel the grin she’s fighting against my mouth.
“Sleeping,” she answers, her bold eyes searching my face.