“I don’t look like Medusa anymore?”
“You couldn’t look like Medusa if you tried.”
“You haven’t seen my bedhead first thing in the morning.”
“I’d like to.”
And right on cue, my face turns red. The burn in my cheeks raises the temperature a few degrees.
His smile widens.
“I love to make you blush.”
A finger traces the edge of my sweater where it meets my clavicle.
“I wonder how far down the pink goes.”
It feels like his words have a direct connection to whatever part of my body is responsible for flushing because the heat on my face spreads down into my chest. I press the cold water bottle to one cheek and then the other. Maybe it’s hot flashes.
Can a twenty-one-year-old have hot flashes?
“I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
He laughs and takes my hand again.
“Come on. Let's see what else you can beat me at.”
Chapter Ten
Having Skye’s body against mine is the sweetest of tortures. She can’t stop giggling, and her ass is shaking and rubbing me in all the right places.
I want to drag her into the trees that line the park and have my way with her. Vermont doesn’t have any laws against public nudity, after all, so we can’t get a 311 for indecent exposure, but we could get a 2601 for lewd and lascivious conduct. It would definitely be worth the three-hundred-dollar fine, but not the up to five years’ stay in jail. And I don’t think Skye would be up to it just yet. I’m so hard, it hurts.
Down, boy. He does not go down. My dick is a terrible listener.
She puts the air gun down and turns in my arms. My hands fall to her hips.
Skye is all smiles.
“I guess it's safe to say I won’t be applying for a sniper job anytime soon.”
Our faces are inches apart, and the urge to kiss her is almost painful. I lean into her when some kids bump into me, trying to squeeze into the spot Skye just vacated, and the moment is broken. It’s probably for the best. It would have been the least-PG kiss in the history of kisses, and we are in a very PG place.
Her stomach growls so loudly, the kids who just bumped into me give me a dirty look as if I did it. One of her hands goes to her stomach and the other covers her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise. We stare at each other for all of three seconds before busting out in loud laughter.
I take her hand and grab the giant Minion I won for her in the target shooting game. I didn’t feel the need to tell the guy manning the game that I’m a cop and an expert marksman.
“Let’s go, woman. I’ll feed you. I’m getting hungry too.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She begins to apologize, but I stop her.
“Don’t. I’m obviously failing the feeding part of this date. It’s entirely my fault.”
“I didn’t even think I was hungry until my stomach decided to let me know it was not happy.”
She looks at me with the sweetest of smiles.
“Thank you, Logan. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”
It hits me then. Her words unveil something in me. Something that has been missing. A need, a want I didn’t know I had. I’ve never been this carefree. I’ve never laughed this much or had so much fun with anyone. Not even as a kid.
My entire life had been so carefully orchestrated that there was never any room for spontaneity. And even after I was out of my father’s reach, his influence continued to mold me. To dictate my behavior, to make up my mind for me.
The realization nearly knocks me on my ass and I do an internal shake-off. I’ll revisit this later, when I’m alone.
“So, how do you feel about tacos?”
Her stomach grumbles again. I place my hand over it and she tightens the muscles there.
“Okay, one rumble for yes, two rumbles for no?”
The sound of happiness spills out of her lips and fills my heart. For everyone else, it may have just sounded like a laugh.
“Yes. I love tacos.”
“Great! Let’s put your yellow friend in the truck and go for a little ride. I know a great place not far from here.”
“His name is Stuart.”
“You named it already?”
“No, that’s his actual name.”
“You know the Minions’ names?”
“Don’t you?” She smiles.
“I work with kids. Minions are very popular.”
I unlock the doors with the remote and open hers first. My hands go to her hips to help her into the truck. I miss the touch the second I let go. I walk around the hood and open the back door to toss the minion inside.
“Can you please put a seatbelt on him?”
“You want me to put a seatbelt on the doll?” I ask in half a laugh.
“He’s not a doll. He’s a minion, and his name is Stuart. And yes, please. You, of all people, should know. Safety first.”
She’s teasing me, I know. And this is another first in a day that seems to be made up of them. I’ve never put a seatbelt on a plush toy before.
The five-minute drive is done in comfortable silence. I don’t even miss having the radio on. I glance at Skye, trying to read her reaction when we pull into the makeshift parking lot for the food truck.
She nearly squeals when she sees the taco truck.
“Oh. My. God. You brought me to a taco truck?”
“Yeah, I hope that’s okay. It’s not fancy, but they have the best tacos in Vermont.”
I worry if this low-key day and lunch will turn her off.
“It’s perfect.”
The way she looks at me makes my chest constrict and my heart skip a beat. There’s pure and undiluted joy on her face. She radiates happiness. I don’t know what to do with it, and for a moment, I’m struck mute.
“I love food trucks. Every year, my family goes to this huge food truck festival in Burlington. I eat so much, I get sick every single time, but they have the best food. I can’t help myself.”
I find my voice again.
“Well, let’s make sure you don’t eat so much that you get sick today. I want to race you again and try to beat you.”
She laughs.
“You think you can beat me?”
“I hope so. If you stick around long enough, I might be able to.”
“You got me Go Karts and tacos. You may never get rid of me now,” she jokes.
The idea of keeping her makes my heart speed up. Something is seriously wrong with me.
We find a shady picnic table to sit and eat at, and the look of bliss on her face with every bite makes my jeans tighter in the groin area.
Where have you been my whole life, Skye?
Chapter Eleven
I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying my birthday date and how at ease I am around Logan. This has been the perfect date. I would never expect him to take me to an amusement park and then to a taco truck for lunch. It’s almost 2:00 p.m. and I’m already regretting the fact this day will end.
We’ve been talking in between rides and games, but nothing deep. The way Logan is looking at me tells me this is about to change. I can tell there’s a lot on his mind by the way he watches me when he thinks I’m distracted, as if he’s trying to figure something out. What, exactly, I don't know.
“Tell me more about you. I met your sister, and you told me a little about your parents. Which friends do I have to impress?”
His voice is light, and he’s smiling, but there’s an edge to it anyway, as if he’s trying to figure out a puzzle.
“You know Bruno. We met during orientation and bonded over our mutual love of The Princess Bride. We’ve been good friends since. Some people think we’re more than that, my sister included. River is jaded, and she can’t believe a guy and a girl can be friends without one of them developing feelings for the other. In her defense, pretty much every guy she ever met wanted to date her.”
“I d
on’t,” he says.
“I really like her sister, though.”
I forget what I was about to say and take another bite of my taco. Two down, one to go.
“So, you and Bruno are just friends, no benefits involved?”
“Exactly. Nothing remotely romantic has ever happened between us, and it never will. We have a few of our classes together since we share the same major, and we hang out often as well. He’s my best friend.”
Logan takes a moment to think it over while taking a sip of his water bottle.
“Is Bruno interested in your sister then?”
The thought of Bruno and River together makes me burst out laughing.
“Oh, God, no. Bruno is in a long-term relationship with someone who lives out of town. That’s where he is today. He spends most weekends away.”
I can see how from the outside, someone might think Bruno and I are more. But friends with benefits, we are not. I know all of Bruno’s secrets, and he knows mine. We’re each other’s rock.
Bruno is the kind of guy everyone loves and wants to be friends with. Having people think we have some sort of fuck-buddy relationship is sometimes mutually beneficial. It keeps guys from badgering me and keeps most girls off his back too. Not everyone cares that he’s in a relationship. It’s easy to ignore it when no one but me has met his person.
“So, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Work in a magazine or newspaper as an editor. I’m doing a double-major. Communications and English.”
My real dream is to be a writer, but I don’t tell him that. I take a sip of my water before shifting the conversation back to him.
“What about you? Who are your friends?”
What I want to ask is what a guy who looks like him is doing with me. He could have anyone.
“I stay in touch with a lot of the guys from college. We have an alumni hockey team and play all year long, just for fun. RU gives us some ice time a few times a month. Less so during the season. I’m the youngest at work, so the older guys like to call me rookie and pull pranks on me. I don’t have anyone like Bruno. I guess I have to agree with River. Most of my female friends wanted more. I dated some over the years, but nothing serious.”
“No one serious? Ever?”
He hesitates before he answers. His blue eyes go stormy at my question, but he covers it up so fast, I wonder if I imagined the whole thing.
“There was someone I dated for a long time, but it didn’t work out. We wanted different things. I’ve been single for the last four years.”
I’ve been single for almost four years too, with the exception of those three weeks I was with Jon—I don’t know what I was thinking back then. I’m glad his relationship ended a while ago. It must mean he’s over her, right?
“And what about your family? You mentioned a brother before. Is he your only sibling?”
“No other siblings. Just Liam. He’s two years younger than me, and he’s a marine deployed somewhere in the Middle East.”
“A police officer and a marine. Your parents must be so proud.”
“Not exactly. Our parents don’t approve of our career choices.”
There’s a thunderstorm is his eyes. Then I remember what he said earlier about not being close to his parents. I want to smack myself in the head and kick his parents in the ass.
“Why the hell not?”
I’m so mad at myself and put off on his behalf, the words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to think them over.
Logan laughs and the storm clouds leave his eyes. They’re sky blue again.
“They had different ideas for what our lives should be. We don’t get along that well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I sometimes forget not everyone is as lucky as I am. Holiday dinners must be difficult.”
“They would be if I attended any. I haven’t been back home in four years.”
That surprises me and touches something inside my chest. I feel for him. I’m not so naïve as to think everyone has a loving and supportive family, and even then, there are always differences. But to have no one? That’s heartbreaking.
“What do you do for Thanksgiving? Christmas?”
“I work. I’ve worked every holiday for the last four years. It’s not like I was going to my parents’ house. I figure I may as well volunteer to take the jobs and give someone with kids a chance to spend the holidays with them.”
Logan’s response tugs at my soul. I can’t imagine not having anyone I’d want to spend time with. I wonder about his friends, but I don’t ask.
“Nope. Not this year. You’re officially invited to spend the holidays with my family. They’re crazy, but I think you'll like them.”
His smile is almost sad, but his words hold a touch of gratitude.
“I’ll have to put a request in, but I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”
Chapter Twelve
I surprise myself when I accept Skye’s invitation to spend Thanksgiving with her. Hearing about her family and seeing the love she holds for them in her eyes touches something inside me. It makes me realize how very lonely I am, how very lonely I have been—not only for the last four years, but most of my life.
She’s all smiles when we stop by my truck, and I unlock the passenger door for her. But I don’t open the door just yet. I brace myself on the truck, my arms on either side of her head, and lean in.
Her eyes widen at my proximity, and she bites her lower lip, but she doesn’t look away, and I’m lost in the clear blue of her eyes. I have to hold in a groan. I want to bite that lip. I want to kiss her and find out if she tastes as sweet as I think she does.
I want to dive in head-first and run like hell. I know I don’t make any sense. I spent far too long keeping everyone at an arm’s length, and I do a damn good job at it. I have to learn to trust again. I have to learn how to let someone in.
No. Not someone. Her.
Skye awakens something in me. Something I can’t name quite yet.
I lean in a little closer still but hold off from touching her. I’m glad she’s keeping her eyes on mine, because if she looks down, she’ll get an eyeful. If my dick had hands, it would be opening the zipper from the inside.
“I want to kiss you, Skye.”
“Okay.”
“Is that a yes?”
When it comes to sex, I don’t want vague responses. Everything about Skye’s body is saying yes, but I need to hear the words. I want her to trust herself and take charge of her needs and wants. I’ll hold off until she’s ready if I have to.
She bites her lip again and her eyes start to drop. No, that’s not good. The situation south of my belt hasn’t changed.
“Skye?”
She looks back at me again.
“I won’t push you into doing anything you don’t want to or aren’t ready for. Don’t feel obligated because we’re on a date and I said I want to kiss you. You don’t owe me anything. I can wait until—”
She surprises the hell out of me.
With her feet on tiptoes and her small hands on my chest, she kisses me. It’s shy and tentative, but so fucking sexy, I groan. It takes everything in me not to press her against the truck and dry hump her in the parking lot.
I’m so fucking over my head in this. She tastes even better than I imagined and I haven’t touched her tongue yet. I can feel her pulling away, and my hands go to her face, keeping her in place. I gently guide her and my tongue slips past her lips. My mouth tastes hers. She moans. I’m completely immersed in her, in her taste, in her orange flower scent, in the softness of her skin under my hands.
Her arms go around my neck and she pulls me closer. There’s zero space between us now. Her small frame curves into mine, the heat of her body setting my own on fire. One of my hands finds its way around her back and the other behind her head, and I pull her into me even closer.
Jesus! This is supposed to be just a taste. Just a chaste kiss. And now, I’m practically fucking her mout
h with mine. I feel like an asshole, but she’s taking all I give her and giving it right back.
This kiss went from PG to XXX so fast, I half expect to hear a sonic boom.
There’s no sonic boom, but there are some honks and whistles.
Reality crashes over us then. We break the kiss but don’t pull apart. She hides her face in my chest, and we stand there for a couple of minutes, catching our breaths, willing our hearts to slow down. I can’t help running my fingers through her soft hair. The color’s more golden under the light of the afternoon sun.
She makes a move to pull away from me. Her eyes are still downcast. Her lips are red and swollen, and some kind of caveman primal pride fills my chest with the knowledge that I did that. I left my mark on her somehow.
Great.
Next, I’ll be pissing a circle around her and thumping my chest.
She raises her eyes. Her cheeks are pink. I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. I should say something, apologize for attacking her mouth the way I did.
“Sorry, I got carried away.”
“I was there too. You didn’t do it alone. I was a willing participant. No need to apologize. Unless you want me to say sorry too.”
“Hell no!”
She bursts out laughing and it’s beautiful.
“I’m not really sorry. Not at all. As far as first-date kisses go, this one was a perfect first-date kiss.”
She smiles.
“Just a perfect first-date kiss? And here I thought it was the perfect kiss, period.”
That caveman in my chest? He’s flexing his muscles now.
“I might have to try it again just to be sure.”
Her eyes fall to my lips, and I’m about to kiss her again, but there are too many people around us now, so I kiss her forehead instead, my lips lingering on her skin for a few moments.
My eyes closed so I can feel her better.
Chapter Thirteen
We went back to the park, and I beat him twice more in the Go Karts. We talked and held hands and stole kisses on the Ferris wheel.
Because of Logan Page 7