Page 14 of To Love the Stars too Fondly

“Oh, I…” It did sound better than walking, but— “Can’t. My bike won’t fit in the trunk.”

“Leave it here. I’ll drive you back in the morning.”

A beat passed, and despite the ice seeping deeper into my skin, the implications got a rise of something hot inside me. Surely she wasn’t insinuating…. “Forward, aren’t you.”

“That’s not—Shit, I’m sorry.” Strange, to see Alex so awkward. Strange and endearing. “That’s not what I meant. I’m driving you home. I’ll arrange for something in the morning.”

Somehow, I was smiling. “You sure? I’ll get your seats wet.”

Alex motioned for me to approach. “Come on.”

Turns out, she had one of those fancy cars with doors that opened upward instead of out. I ducked inside, bombarded by the warm heater and the realization of just how violently I was shivering. “Fucking hell,” Alex said. “Your lips are blue.” At the touch of a button, the door shut on its own. “Where am I taking you?”

I recited the address, still finding my bearings as Alex typed it into the GPS. “It’s not far,” I added.

What the hell was happening?

“Pretty far by bike, especially in this weather.” Alex glared into the tiny back seat. “I don’t have any blankets. Sorry.”

“Is that even a normal thing to have? Don’t feel bad.” I did my best to stop rubbing my arms. “I’m feeling better already.”

The car noiselessly sped up as Alex changed gears, as smooth a sensation as I’d ever felt. Perhaps this was the appeal of expensive cars, plus the impressive mood lighting. From the LEDs down to even the buttons, all of it glowed a soothing red.

Alex said nothing, but the silence was comfortable now, even if it left too much time to think. “Thank you,” I muttered. “You’ve done a lot for me lately. I’m really grateful.”

Shame started creeping up, stretching its cold fingers to choke me. I shouldn’t be comfortable; I should be embarrassed. I didn’t own a car, and it didn’t make a difference given I’d be whoring myself out in an hour anyway.

“I promise, it’s no imposition,” Alex said. Her smile was warm, too warm, warm enough to burn me with its light.

I said nothing, unable to process the ensuing silence.

The neighborhood notably deteriorated as we neared my apartment complex, a weight settling in my stomach to imagine what she thought of it. Alex had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Surely she’d only known better than this.

The complex was too cheap to repair the burned-out streetlamp, leaving us in a dark shadow as Alex pulled into an empty parking spot. “GPS says your door is up there.”

“Yes.” I unlatched the seatbelt. This was all so much, too much, too soon. “Thanks again.”

Alex’s eyes darkened in the red mood lighting, barely perceptible, yet their magnetism kept me enthralled. “You’re welcome. What time do you leave to get to work in the morning?”

“If I’m biking, 5. But on the days my mom can drive, it’s 5:30.”

“I’ll have a car here at 5:30, on the dot. Might not be me driving, but you can trust it.”

Why did she have to smile so tenderly? This wasn’t her fuckboy grin; this was something soft and sincere, a kindness I couldn’t repay.

I lingered. So did she. What a fool I was, to respond in turn as she leaned closer. I felt her breath, then her lips, and we kissed in the parking lot, shielded by rain and shadows. She tasted clean, like faded mint, the gentle motions drawing immediate heat to my cheeks.

We parted, the tension broken yet strung anew, at least, for me. I couldn’t repay…or perhaps I could. I could hate her and fuck her at the same time, right?

And so I surged forward again, this time slipping my tongue between her lips. Her ensuing groan lit something hot inside me, a fire that never quite sparked when men touched me. This was immediate. Gratifying. Perfect.

I could hate her and want her at the same time, right?

When her calloused hand cupped my cheek, I couldn’t help but lean in, even as my stiff fingers fell to the buttons of my work shirt, the unsexy fabric parting slowly to reveal cleavage and the edge of a—thankfully cute—lacy bra.

The fact that she didn’t even notice was equal parts hot and demoralizing—the price I paid for being a damn good kisser, alas—so I moaned with purpose, hoping she’d break the kiss, and when that didn’t work, I grabbed her free hand and placed it right on my breast, nothing but thin lace between us.

Alex finally noticed. “Oh,” she said stupidly, breathless in her stupor. She stared, frozen in the presence of my revealed tits. “Look, it’s not that I wouldn’t want to….” She pulled her hand back. “You don’t owe me anything.”