“You’re trouble, aren’t you?” I ask, my thumb grazing his bruised skin.
“Probably,” he says, the glint in his eyes melting all the brain cells that know this is a bad idea. “But I get the feeling you might be, too.”
He’s right. Trouble seeking itself out, that’s what we are.
“Then you can give me a ride,” I say, “on one condition.”
“What’s that?” His brown eyes gleam.
“We don’t actually go home. I’d like to cause a little trouble, together, first.”
He grins wide, and it’s as beautiful as it is terrifying. It’s the kind of grin a girl falls for, but something tells me he doesn’t easily fall back. He is all beauty, and risk, and everything I need for a few hours of being the old Maggie, the version of her I should have been. I was so worried about control when I could have been freer. Losing control now means hitchhiking to work or forgetting someone’s name. But for a night—for a few reckless hours, I want to be lost.
“You did say I’m not taking you home, right? Is there another kind of trouble I should know about?”
No. You’re not taking me home, not to my place. There I can’t hide. There I can’t pretend to be the girl I am tonight.
“Trouble comes in all shapes and sizes,” I say. “I was thinking more of an adventure.” My smile is coy, and I hope it’s enough to convince him.
“You got yourself a deal, Pippi.” Griffin leans in for another kiss, one hand firm on the small of my back, the other cradling my neck. I let him take control, surrender to it, and for this short moment, I don’t worry about what comes next. Instinct tells my mouth to open and let him inside. My palms splay against his chest in need, and I taste the coffee as I let his tongue tease its way past mine. I know we have an audience and at the same time don’t care one freaking bit, not if it means putting space between my hand and the thundering beat of his chest; not if it means I can’t savor him, sweet like candy on my lips. We’re Pippi and Fancy Pants, miles away from the crap that makes us Maggie and Griffin. And damn if it isn’t just a bit delicious.
“Shit,” Miles says through soft laughter, his fingers threading with Andrew’s. “Like I said. Off. Limits.”
Chapter Four
Griffin
“Just drive.” That’s all she says after we get in the truck, nothing about why she kissed me—or why she let me kiss her back. And for the fucking life of me, I don’t know why I care.
I lick my bottom lip, still tasting her on it. Oh, genius. That’s why you give a shit. This isn’t like last night. No selfish agenda. But the whole time I sat with her while she worked, I didn’t expect the night to move beyond the café, nor did I expect the undeniable relief when I realized it would.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I glance down just to check the name. I let out a sigh.
“Someone special?” Maggie asks.
“No.” The word comes out too quickly, but I’m not fast enough to keep her from seeing.
“How would Stacy from Poli-Sci feel about you saying that?” She gives me a pointed look.
My jaw clenches. “We were partners for a project early in the semester.” And maybe some late-night work sessions turned into overnighters, but I don’t tell Maggie this. For some reason I want this stranger to see me as something other than I am. As much as I don’t want it to, and even more can’t explain it, the opinion of a girl I’ve known for mere hours matters. And I’m pretty sure a midnight text says all she needs to know. “Can we turn off the judgment now? You invited me on this little adventure, right?”
“Yes. Shit. I’m sorry. You’re right. Turn here,” she says, the strain in her voice unmistakable as the words sputter from her lips.
Things would have been different if the guys weren’t assholes and came back to campus with me. I’d have done exactly what they said I’d do, what I always do. That text would have been enough. But now it’s not. I don’t want this girl to write her number on my hand so I can wash it off when I get home, forget her name by morning. Because she’s not the type of girl I’d forget, which also means she’s not the type of girl for me. But she kissed me. And I kissed her back. Now here we are.
As soon as I make the turn, I know where we’re going. “A movie?” I ask, the tension easing as I realize we might still salvage a night that hasn’t yet started. “But it’s, like, midnight. Everything has already started.” I offer a tentative smile and wait.
She nods, biting her bottom lip as she responds with a grin, and it takes everything in me to keep my hands on the wheel, to not pull her toward me or think about climbing in the back of the truck and tasting her again.
“We’re sneaking in.” Maggie pauses for a second, her smile fading. “I am sorry, Griffin. I had no right to judge.”
I nod toward the theater. “Lead the way, Pippi.”