Page 43 of Take Her On

Maya instinctively reached for her hand. “No, you didn’t. This is me.”

“Are you pulling the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ here?” Jamie let out a soft sigh. “I thought you wanted this—”

“It’s not that. I do want this.”

Those words surprised her. They seemed to surprise Jamie too, from the look on her face.

Maya cleared her throat, trying to wish away the heat creeping up her neck. I blame the endorphins firing through my system. “It’s not to do with this…” Not completely, anyway. “It’s my grandpa. My grandma… They…they need me. And I’m late.”

Jamie nodded, putting the pieces together, but doubt lingered in her gaze. “Oh, right, yeah, you mentioned before.” She gave her a small smile. “I’ll get my things.”

And like that, the moment was over.

Ten minutes later, freshly dressed but still mightily uncomfortable—both between her legs and in her head—she got into Jamie’s little blue Golf. Jamie didn’t start it right away, and they sat in silence, the wind outside wailing and rocking the car.

Maya hated this feeling. She was ruining…whatever this was, like she always did. But she didn’t know how to explain the tangle of conflicting feelings in her brain. This was Jamie—her own personal pain in the arse for the past three years. Someone she’d despised and openly criticised for the way she behaved, after seasons of torment, and now, what, they were sleeping together?

How did this happen?

There was no denying the connection between them… She’d just had her fingers inside her.

Maya, please. Jamie’s words echoed in her head, tugging at her stomach. The memory of her panting, looking at her while she came around her fingers, would be seared into her brain forever.

Good lord. Focus. She needed to go home, have a shower, then try make some sense of all of this. She wet her lips and made herself concentrate on Jamie—and not the sensation tingling between her legs. “Do you mind if we…” She gestured to the steering wheel, and Jamie straightened up in her seat.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stall you.”

The engine roared to life, warm air blowing through the vents. The blueberry car-scent tickled Maya’s nose. She scratched it, catching the smell of Jamie on her fingers. Her whole body reacted.

Fucking hell.

Jamie pulled out of the space and waited for the gates to open. Music suddenly blared out of the speakers, and she reached to turn it down.

“Sorry,” she said. “It usually takes a few moments for the car to connect to my phone.”

Maya looked at the screen, which was displaying “All the Love” by the Outfield. Jamie was already tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. It was strangely endearing how much she reacted to this type of music.

“We don’t have to listen to this,” she said. The gates squeaked open, and she edged out into the road, passing the swaying trees on either side. “You can put whatever music you want on.”

The vocalist started singing, and Maya smiled, liking the sound of his voice. “No, it’s okay. I like it.”

“Really?” Jamie looked at her, and when she smiled back, the feeling it gave Maya shot like an arrow, piercing the soft sponge of her heart. She wanted to lean across the centre console and kiss her.

But she didn’t.

* * *

Jamie took Maya on an enthusiastic tour of eighties artists on their short drive home, including Culture Club, the Human League, and Cindy Lauper. She knew every word to all of them, and watching Jamie singing and dancing was like having a ticket to her own private show. Any traces of awkwardness were washed away by their laughter and Jamie’s badly sung vocals.

Maybe Jamie had a point—they couldn’t listen to eighties music without having a good time.

When she pulled up outside their houses, perfectly timing the end of “I Drove All Night” and howling the final note, Maya’s face hurt from smiling.

Jamie switched off her engine with a grin. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“I bet you did.”

“Hah.” Jamie looked down into her lap briefly before meeting her gaze. “I’ll make sure it’s worth your while next time.”