AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Doubtful.” He stretches his arms up behind her chair, the movement causing his shirt to rise, giving her a glimpse of tan skin. Momentarily distracted, she forgets her line of questions, but not for long.
“Where did you go to school?” She counters. Maybe they went to the same College or High School. He just points to his chest. Definitely not school then. She barely got into a community college.
“UCLA? Nice, you were either crazy smart or an athlete.” She makes a big show of checking him out. “Based on the look of you, I’d say you were an athlete.” She gives him what she hopes is a flirty grin and a wink.
“Hey! Now I'm offended.” He clutches his chest in mock affront. “I don't look smart?”
Nash
_____________________________
Treading on thin ice here, buddy.
“How about you? What have you been doing the last few years?” he asks, changing the conversation smoothly. Lets hope she doesn't want to know about what he was doing the last few years because High School was like, two years ago. She smiles up at him sweetly.
“Well, I am a teacher, actually. Man, that sounds weird even to me! I just wrapped up my first year.” She pauses, eyes downcast, her hands going on to the play with the sleeves of her hoodie. “And, well, let's just say, it's much harder than it looks.” She seems lost in thought, kind of sad, really.
“I honestly thought I was fantastic with kids because I used to sit for a family back home. But then again, they were pretty special kids.”
Shit, she was talking about them, about him and Marisol, and the years she spent babysitting. This was not where he intended the conversation to go.
“What was hard about it?” He asks, leaning in, invested in the conversation, willing it to turn in a different direction. Why did she think teaching was hard? Were people mean to her, did the kids give her shit? What was her life like? Does she have someone special waiting for her?
“Oh my GOD, Graham Cracker!!!” She nearly shouts, her face lighting up.
His heart stops. He doesn’t move. Fuck, does she recognize me? She shifts her entire body to face him, her hands reaching out to grab ahold of his thighs with a triumphant look on her face. The green swirls around, taking over the blue in her eyes as they widen. It feels great, if we are being honest, basking in her happiness while she puts her hands on him. He wants her hands on him all the time, on his legs, his chest, his dick.
Spiraling a little bit there, reign it in.
“Your eyes! They remind me of my Graham Cracker.” She laughs, not noticing how his body hesitates, tensing while he waits to see where this conversation goes. She is going to know. Any minute, she is going to make the connection.
Well, it was a good run while it lasted. He waited for the dawning to overcome her features, for her hands to retreat away from his form and the repulsion to take over, but they didn’t. Her face is still flushed with excitement and her hands are still on him.
“They are the exact same shade of brown. Gosh, he was such a cutie. Now, that kid will definitely grow up to be a heartbreaker. He was always so serious and grumpy, but definitely a cutie.” Getting lost in her nostalgia. He takes this time to breathe and re-group. This is good. His cover is still intact. Her hand is still on his leg. He can feel it burning a hole through his shorts. Melody’s face takes on a dreamy quality, her eyes soften, and an easy smile brightens up her face. He stares at her, watching the emotions flit across her features.
Wait. She said I was grumpy. I was not grumpy. I was focused.
“Now you’re just trying to make me jealous.” He lets a smile curl over his face slowly, encouraging her to keep talking. To keep her interested.
“Now boarding flight 2816 non-stop to Memphis…”
“That’s us.” She says while fumbling with her phone.
His phone lights up with an airdrop notification. She shared her contact information. Smiling shyly, she walks up to boarding, somehow having gathered her belongings before he even had a chance to move, leaving him to stare back at her, watching the lines of her retreating form. He gets in line a few people behind her, following the flow of passengers onto the plane, never taking his eyes off the top of her head.
Her seat is a few rows behind him, but he goes straight after her, passing his seat without a thought, his body being pulled towards hers. Watching, as Melody puts her backpack on her seat and begins looking for a place for her carry-on. Using this opening, Nash squeezes through the few remaining people in the aisle, using the proximity to push his body up against the length of her back. She was warm and inviting, her frame easily tucked into his, her scent enveloping him and making his body respond to her closeness. His hands brush her back as he leans over.
“Let me help you with those bags.” A hushed whisper escaped him.
With one hand, his fingertips lightly caress her shoulder, following a path down her arm to where her hand is gripping her luggage. His left hand lightly on her lower back, the front of his thighs pushed up against her ass. He feels the shiver up her body, and the gooseflesh left in his wake. He inhales deeply, committing her closeness and scent to memory.
Taking a step back, the emptiness left behind is overwhelming as he takes her carry-on and easily lifts it into the compartment. He pulls up her name on his phone, settling in his seat before sending her a text.
Nash: You smell nice. -Nash
Chapter Three
Melody
