That sizzle happened again, searing me from the inside out. Excitement rushed through my veins as desire raced along my nerve endings. Goose bumps sprang forward.
I couldn’t hide my body’s reaction as the breath I held released in a simple sigh. No way he missed it.
The rawness of my response flushed my cheeks, warmth creeping up. My uncertain gaze skidded to his.
“Let me make sure the overhead light is off.” He didn’t immediately release my arm, but it also didn’t linger. The wild fluttering of my heart locked me there, staring at Dash. He broke the gaze and hold, something I’d never be able to do, and reached for the overhead light. “Take the money. You’re taking the risk of being with me. Let me buy you a soda for your birthday.”
The twenty was back in my line of sight. In auto mode, I accepted it. I certainly couldn’t think properly while in the middle of my acute physical response. Luckily, the fresh, sultry air helped cool my heated skin and cleared my head, but my cock remained stiff as a board. I had to adjust myself as I started for the store’s entry.
Dash’s touch was like a Louisville slugger’s grand slam to my libido. I wasn’t even ashamed of my reaction. Every other time I had the slightest physical attraction toward a dude, I immediately went into flight mode. Forcing a turn and burn out of there as quickly as possible.
I rounded the corner, scratching my jaw. I felt real stubble there, at least in a small patch. My shoulders firmed up, squaring, and I grinned at how truly comfortable I was.
“Brooks. We wondered who parked around there,” one of the guys standing at the truck’s bed edge said. The outside lights from the store made it easier to see their faces. I honestly didn’t remember any of them. They looked quite a bit older than me.
“Hey.” I lifted my chin. Hard to come off as cool with the grin etched on my lips. It might be permanently there from now on. I tucked my hands in my front pockets, pushing the cash inside, and hopefully, hiding the full hard-on in the front of my jeans.
I made quick work of buying our drinks and grabbing the key from the attendant. I ignored the guys, only giving another nod, because it seemed like the thing to do, and I started around the building to the car.
“Hey, Coach wants you to come play for us,” one of the guy’s said, his voice moving closer. I stopped in my tracks and looked around. The guy was taking long strides toward me. Nothing about him jogged any memory. Crap.
“Yeah, I heard. I’m thinkin’ about it,” I said off the cuff, hoping it would be enough. It wasn’t. He kept coming toward me, making me pivot on my heel, heading toward the nameless guy, putting space between the locals and Dash hopefully still inside the car.
“What’s there to think about?” he said, knocking me in the upper arm when I got within reach. Thankfully not the aching one.
Not a conversation for now. I cocked my thumb over my shoulder. “I gotta go. Someone’s waitin’.”
His stance changed. Now, he appeared in on a secret. “Nice ride. Those rich bitches from the resort sure like to slum it over here.” He slapped my arm and gave me a weird wink where both his eyes closed instead of just one. I didn’t care for the way he lumped me into the slums.
I nodded, attempting some form of comradery, then pivoted again. “Seeya around.” My strides were long and purposeful. Icarried Dash’s can of Coke and my Dr. Pepper, the restroom key dangling from my hand. I continued around to the driver’s side, fully aware of Dash watching me the entire time.
Whatever change was happening to me rippled over my consciousness. Confidence built at lightning speed. I felt alive. Dash’s door opened, and I handed over his drink between the car and the door, while he continued to sit behind the wheel.
“You know those guys?” he asked.
“No, but they knew me, and they think you’re a hot resort girl.”
His brows wrinkled as I quietly chuckled.
“I didn’t correct ’em but I’ll stand here until you’re done. There’s a drop box that you’re to put the key into. It goes back into the store. They said don’t be gross about it and they sanitize.”
Dash’s brow wrinkled further, taking the key between his forefinger and thumb. That made my laughter grow louder. Of course he wouldn’t get the practicality of an old school restroom drop box.
I followed like a bodyguard as he went toward the back of the building. Something protective rose inside me. I’d be the sentry to guard his door.
My purpose felt damned good.
A parked car on a tree-lined street with the moon filtering through the branches made magical things happen. With my head rested against the head rest, I turned toward Dash. I was relaxed and having a good time. He sat at an angle, facing me, as far as the steering wheel allowed. The radio played the only pop-rock station around.
Twenty questions turned to fifty or even more the longer we sat together. I didn’t want to leave.
“What position did you play?” Dash asked.
“It’s my turn to ask a question,” I countered and lifted a brow when he started to shake his head, an argument on his lips. I knew that with all certainty because he’d done that very expression every time I inserted a question.
“Go ahead then,” he gave, but I could tell it didn’t come easy. “But it’s noted that anytime I bring up football, you change the subject. Do you really not like it anymore?”
“Again, my question.”
