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His nod is needy. He steps backward, takes my hand, guides me to his parking spot around the corner.
I climb inside. Click my seatbelt. Press my knees together.
It does nothing to stop the heat pooling in my sex.
I need him.
Not just his hands, and his lips, and his cock.
Him.
It's scary how much I need him.
When did this happen? How?
His eyes meet mine as he slides into the car. His smile spreads over his cheeks.
It's a beautiful smile.
It does things to me.
Makes my knees knock together. My stomach flutter. My heart thud against my chest.
"I…" Words form and dissolve on my tongue. How do I say this? I like you is too plain. But I don't love him yet. I could. One day. And maybe I will. But not yet.
"You…" He arches a brow. Clicks his seatbelt. Slides his keys into his car and turns them.
"I had a good time." I want this to be a real thing. More than fun. More than casual. I want to tell you about my past. To explain every single mistake. To show you all my ugly parts.
"Not too much shit from Dean?"
"Just a little. He's protective of you. It's sweet."
"He's an idiot."
"That too." But I understand. Dean doesn't want Walker getting hurt. I don't either. I… I really, really like him.
He turns back to the window, hits his left blinker, pulls onto the street.
I turn on the radio. Commercial on KROQ. Shitty auto-tuned pop song on KYSR. Even more horrible one on KIIS—the local Top 40 station. "You listen to KIIS?"
"Fuck no. Must have been Emma."
"You give her a lot of rides?"
"She had a phase where she was pissed at Brendon." He points to the aux cable. "You can play some coffee shop shit."
"When you put it that way…"
"Some beautiful, mellow jams that make you want to fall asleep."
I laugh. He's teasing me in that I like you way.
We pull onto Ocean. It's only five minutes now. But that's too long.
I dig through my purse, pull out my cell, connect it to the aux cable. I pick my most mellow coffee shop song.
Walker laughs as it flows from the speakers. "This your preferred soundtrack?"
