“It’s beautiful,” Selena breathes, as I put the car in park and climb out.
She leaps out of her own side, before I can come around to open the door for her like a proper gentleman should. But she doesn’t seem to care, or even notice. She’s too busy gazing out over the ocean, the clifftop, the little grassy patch beneath a tree that’s one of my favorite spots in the whole state.
From up here, it feels like we can survey the whole world. Like everything below is our kingdom. Close enough to watch, but too far away to actually touch us. We’re in a bubble up here, protected from it all.
At least, that’s how I want her to feel. That’s how I hope she feels every day that she’s with me. Because I never want her to suffer the way she has before, I want to keep her protected from any harm, any hurt that could befall her.
I leave her gazing out across the sky, which has started to turn reddish pink now, the few clouds dotted across it practically shining like pieces of spun gold. Then I step around to the trunk and pop it, dragging out the supplies I packed earlier today, before we even tried her test drive. Back when I didn’t know if this stop tonight would be a triumphant one, or if I’d have to reassure her that it was all right, that we could try to practice her driving again another day.
Now, at least, I know it’s triumphant. So I drag out my final item last, already tightly packed inside a cooler.
Selena only notices me when I approach her, where she’s leaning against the tree trunk watching the view. I lay out a blanket on the grass, and set the cooler beside it, and her eyes brighten, her lips parting.
“What’s all this?” She kneels to help me arrange the blanket, then waits for me to sit down before she takes a seat too, tilting back so she’s lying with her head in my lap, but propped up high enough that she still has a decent view out over the ocean and the setting sun.
“A celebratory picnic, of course.” I lean down to kiss her forehead, before I brush her hair back from it, my own gaze traveling up and out over the ocean as well. “My mother used to bring me here for picnics, when I was a kid. Anytime that I did really well on a test in school or won a big game in soccer. It was our secret spot, for celebrations.”
Her gaze flicks up to mine. Once I notice her, the sunset seems to pale in comparison. “What are we celebrating?”
“Your first successful drive,” I tell her. I wink, as I say it. “The first of many, I’m sure. But that was a huge step you took today. A really brave one, too. I admire you for it.”
Her cheeks flush again, with that pretty blush I love so much. She lets out a deep sigh. “I feel ridiculous.”
“Trust me, Selena, you are anything but ridiculous. Anyone else who went through what you had would have the same fears. But what makes you different is the way you confront those fears. You run at them head-on. And you keep trying, even when you fail. That’s unique. Not everybody has that backbone.”
“I guess.” Her teeth snag on her lower lip, and she worries it a little.
But I don’t give her time to sink into her own head. I reach over and pop open the cooler, then start to pull out items. She glances up and over, surprised into not dwelling on her own worries anymore.
“What’s all that?”
“I didn’t know what kind of sandwiches you preferred,” I admit. “So I just packed one of everything, in case. There’s a turkey and cheese, ham and cheese, just cheese and tomato…”
She props herself up on an elbow, laughing as she peers around me and into the cooler. “You brought a whole deli counter with you.”
“Maybe.” I smirk.
Her smile widens, as she leans around me to select the egg salad sandwich I threw together last. Then she pushes herself back up to sitting and curls her legs underneath her. “Thank you.”
“That’s not all.” I glance past her, nodding in the direction of the setting sun, which has finally touched the horizon, begun to sink beneath it. “One more present for you.” I pull a bottle of champagne from the cooler. It’s a good brand, though a local one – which I guess my wine friends tell me makes it technically sparkling wine and not champagne, but whatever. It’s a pricier bottle than I usually drink.
I guess I chose correctly, because her eyebrows rise when she sees the label. “Wow. This really is a special occasion, huh?”
“Only the best for my girlfriend,” I tell her with a wink. That word alone makes her cheeks flush darker than ever, and makes my smile grow, in turn. “We’re celebrating more than just your drive today, I think.”
“I think we are,” she agrees, leaning in to tilt her face toward mine. “Boyfriend.”
I lean down to kiss her, just as the sun dips below the waves in the distance. When we break apart, the world has gone darker — all except for our eyes, locked on one another, which seem to shine in the sunset. I could gaze into those eyes forever.
Then she tilts her head, her hair brushing my shoulder as she leans around me and clicks her tongue. “Pretty sure you forgot glasses, though, didn’t you?”
“I’m a great boyfriend,” I tell her. “But not a perfect one.” I pop the champagne and offer her the first drink.
She takes a long pull from the bottle, then laughs as she releases to pass it to me. “Champagne always tickles my nose.”
“See?” I tilt the neck of the bottle toward her. “Such a dork.” But I take a long drink too, and I have to admit, I get what she means. The liquid fizzes, pops along my tongue. It makes me feel awake. It makes me feel looser, too, somehow, relaxed.
We eat our sandwiches side by side and talk about everything and nothing at once. About the plans we have for our futures — she wants to open a bookshop one day, run it, and maybe have a little café inside too. “You can make the sandwiches for me,” she says, nudging my knee with a grin. “Since you’re so good at it.”
“All right,” I agree, smirking. “But you’re going to have to man the champagne bar, since I clearly cannot prepare drinks properly.” To demonstrate that point, I take another deep swig straight out of the bottle, and she laughs, shaking her head.
“You are hopeless at propriety, yes.” She leans in to kiss me, though, to soften the blow, and I smile against her mouth. “But that’s all right. I’m not too big on proper, either.” She takes another drink to demonstrate, a longer one this time, and when she lets go of the bottle, it foams against her lips, spilling down her chin.
She lets out a squeal, but I lean in to lick up the excess, along her throat, her jaw. She turns, and then we both forget all about the champagne, letting it fall to the grass beside us as we get lost in one another instead.
Overhead, the stars have come out. You can see more up here on this overlook than you can back in the city. A few dozen, shining through the city lights in the distance, like beacons. In that faint light, I wrap my arms around her and tilt her backward along the blanket, until we’re lying side-by-side, arms around one another.
She shifts against me, and that’s all it takes to make my cock start to swell against the seam of my jeans. Her soft curves are always going to drive me to distraction in a few seconds flat. I shift closer to her, drag her against me, and she lets out a breathy little sigh before she sinks into our kiss.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I murmur when we break apart again, my gaze fixed on her.
She runs a fingertip along my lips, then presses against the lower one, lightly. It sends a rush of all the blood in my veins, because I want nothing more than to roll her over and pin her beneath me now. “You taste like champagne.” She smiles.
“You taste even better,” I respond. Then I can’t resist any longer. I roll her onto her back and kiss her neck, her throat, down to the spot where her neck meets her collarbone. All the while, my hands slide down her curves to the edge of her jeans.
Her perfect, sexy as fuck lips curve in a tight smile as she arches those hips up against me, and mirrors my motion, her hands tracing down my chest, along my abs, until they come to rest at my zipper.
Only then does she hesitate, biting her lower lip, the one I want to be biting right now instead, and she glances behind us, over our shoulders at the distant road.
It’s little more than lights along a highway from here. There’s nobody close to us, not for half a mile. It’s just us and the stars overhead, the distant ocean waves below, so far down you can hardly hear the whisper of the surf at all.
“What if someone comes past?” she whispers, and we’re pressed tightly enough together that I can feel the skip of her pulse at the thought.
It makes my smirk widen. “Then they’re going to catch us in a very compromising position…” I flatten my palm against her stomach and slip my fingers beneath the hem of her jeans.
She gasps, a sharp little breath that ignites a flare of desire in my veins. And she arches up toward me at the same time, as if her body moves without her mind consciously deciding. “Antonio…”
“Selena.” I lean in to kiss her lips, feather light. “I love you,” I whisper, so close that my mouth brushes hers as I speak.
I can feel her shiver beneath me. Her faint breath, before she murmurs, “I love you, Antonio.”
Just the sound of my name on her lips, right now, like this, is enough to drive me wild. I kiss her again, harder, and she softens beneath me, arching up and into my arms, even as I push my hand farther beneath her jeans.
All it takes are my fingers against her clit, soft yet insistent, brushing along her again and again. Before long she’s breathing hard, gasping out my name as she comes. I make her come twice before I finally push her jeans the rest of the way down.
This time feels different from the rest. Slower, yet more heated. As if we’re both aware now of what this means, of how much more feeling is between us than just lust and desire. I pin her back against the grass and press inside her, feeling her legs wrap around me, and it feels like coming home. Like finally finding the place where I belong.
I lose track of how long we make love for. All I know is that by the time I roll off of her and she curls into my side, loose-limbed and relaxed the way she always is after sex, there are more stars visible overhead than I’ve ever seen before, even this far outside the city.
We lie there for a while counting them, my arm around her, her body lying against mine, her head pillowed on my chest. I toy with her hair, and she murmurs under her breath, pointing out the constellations to me one at a time. After a while, she falls silent, and we just lie there, my hand stroking her hair, toying with it, braiding it.
“I feel like…” Selena stops. Hesitates. The way she’s lying, with her head against my chest, I can feel the vibration of her voice all through my ribcage when she speaks. “This is the first time I’ve felt like I can really breathe easily. Like my whole body is lighter, because…” She pauses. Chews on her lower lip for a moment, deep in thought. Then her gaze flicks to mine, shining in the dim light. “Like I finally know that I’m out of limbo. Ready to start moving, start living again.”
I smile, my eyes locked on hers. “I know the feeling, Selena. Any future with you, though? It will be all movement, all adventure. Just like the last few weeks have been.” I tangle one hand in her hair, use my free arm to hug her more tightly against me. “Whatever happens, I promise you, we’ll never stall out again. We’ve got a real future together, me and you. We’ll speed toward it together.”
15
Selena
One Year Later
“What do you think?” I glance across the gear shift at Antonio in the passenger seat. “Top down?”
He grins back at me, his expression relaxed, his limbs loose where he has one knee kicked up over the other, sprawled back in his seat. “Top down,” he agrees.
I lean over to the dash and depress the button that opens up the automatic roof of my convertible. That’s right. My convertible.
I spent the last year working with Antonio in the garage. I would have done it for free, but he insisted that I’m better than most paid assistants he’s ever worked with, so he’s going to pay me a fair salary for my work. That, along with my odd teaching gigs and part-time jobs that I’d been using the pay my rent, combined to earn me a decent income of my own, for the first time in my life. I used the money to purchase my very own car. A hot pink vintage convertible.
Or, at least, it’s hot pink now. I’m not actually rich or anything, so the car I actually bought was pretty run-down, a real fixer-upper, as Antonio likes to say. I got it at auction from a guy who figured it would never run again. But with Antonio’s help, and a lot of practice — not to mention some investments in really specific engine parts that it took me months in some cases to hunt down — I finally got her up and running.
Then all she needed to finish her off was a paint job, which I applied liberally in this case. Antonio laughed and called me a dork — his favorite term of endearment — when I insisted on painting the car hot pink. But I wasn’t about to let my very first set of my own wheels be some lame color like black or gray.
The top finishes whirring off, which makes the breeze from the highway pick up my hair and fling it around my face in circles. I peer over the tops of my sunglasses at the wide open road ahead, a bright smile spreading across my face.
Antonio and I have been working so hard over the last year. Antonio got a bunch of new customers from my dad. Even more than he met at my father’s party, in fact, once we told my parents that we’d started dating. At first I could tell my dad was a little uncertain about me dating a mechanic, but after a couple of semi-awkward family suppers, Dad realized how great Antonio is. And moreover, how great he is for me.
I suspect Mom had a big hand in getting Dad on board too. I’m pretty sure she’s been shipping us ever since the very beginning, back when Antonio first stopped by the house to ask about me because he was worried after I stormed out of the garage. Mom would develop a soft spot for any guy who looked after me that well. And nobody looks after me quite like Antonio does, that’s for damn sure.
Which is why I decided to reward him for once. Unbeknownst to him, I called in a few favors with some of the other auto shop owners around. Friends in the industry who Antonio trusts, even though they don’t work with him directly, usually. I convinced them to cover for us for the next week.
Little does Antonio know, though. I did it all in secret, planned around our big one year anniversary tomorrow. He just thinks we’re on a long drive up the PCH to enjoy the unseasonably warm weather we’ve been having this week. He doesn’t know I snuck both of our suitcases into the trunk.
Antonio reaches over to turn up the song that’s playing, one of my favorite pop songs, which I got him addicted to after a few thousand repetitions on the garage speakers. He always pretends to complain, but I know he secretly loves the music, too. Or at least, loves me enough to pretend he loves it.
We both sing at the top of our lungs as the wind breezes around us, whips at my hair, turns his cheeks a deeper bronze than usual. I flash him another grin as I speed right past the exit we normally take to a little beach town up here, where we usually have dinner and then turn around to make it back into the city before we have to head to bed. More often than not, these days, we wind up sleeping at his place, out behind the garage, because it’s easier than driving in from my apartment in the morning.
But not tonight, we won’t be.
“Hey, you missed the turn,” Antonio calls over the music.
I reach over to turn the stereo down a notch, just far enough that he’ll be able to hear me over both the music and the howling rush of wind. “Not this time,” I call, my grin turning playful.
He recognizes that tone of voice, and he tilts his head, eying me with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. “What’s going on?” he calls.
“You’ll find out,” I reply with a broad smirk.
He folds his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes. “If we don’t get back by tonight, we’re going to have to push the 9am meeting with the Monroes past 10, and you know they don�
�t like it when we bump anything last minute.”
“Actually.” I can’t help it. My smirk turns into a broad grin. “We don’t have a meeting tomorrow with the Monroes. I made that up.”
His eyebrows shoot upward. “You—”
“I also made up the rest of our appointments for tomorrow, too.” I can’t help it. I laugh at the look on his face. Maybe just because this is the first time I’ve actually managed to pull off a surprise for him instead of the other way around.
Call it revenge. Antonio is constantly surprising me. Taking me to fancy dinners when all I expect is to have a meal at home in my sweatpants. Or surprising me at work with a bottle of nice wine, interrupting me halfway through a repair to drag me outside for another sunset picnic, or just a dinner he cooked in the backyard along the patio overlooking the vineyards next door.
He’s constantly, constantly spoiling me. So, I figured it was about time I returned the favor.
“Normally this is my move, you know,” he says, leaning closer so that I can hear him over the highway noises.
“Oh, trust me, I know.” I smirk and flash him a wink. “Don’t worry. I packed everything we’ll need for this trip —”
“Trip?” he interrupts, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. “But—”
“The garage?” My smile only grows more devious. “I talked to Brian and Shane. They’ve agreed to split your repairs this week between them. And to cover any emergencies that might come up.”
Now Antonio’s jaw actually drops. “This week?”
“It has been way too long since either of us took a vacation,” I call. “A real one. So that’s what we’re doing. A real road trip.” I can’t help it. A little sigh of happiness escapes me, then. “I’ve always wanted to take one. Ever since I was a kid.”
Antonio’s shocked expression softens into something sweeter. More understanding, although still surprised. “Did you ever think you’d be able to?”
“Hell no.” I shake my head and tap the wheel to emphasize my point. “I never imagined any of this.” I wave a hand, gesturing wildly, but Antonio must know what I mean. Me, behind the wheel of a car. Driving again. And in a car I bought with my own money, and fixed up myself, no less.
Work Me Up Page 14