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He surprised her by laughing. “With you? Everything.”
“Me too,” she whispered, taking a step forward.
Reece tensed, but didn’t move away. “Don’t do this, Lucy.”
She ignored him, and before her brain could tell her heart to get back in line, she went on her toes and kissed him.
It was a soft, awkward kiss. He was way taller than she was, and though she’d gotten plenty of kissing experience over the past year or two, most of that had been guys kissing her, not the other way around.
She pressed harder, her heart sinking when Reece didn’t respond. He didn’t move a single muscle as her lips moved pleadingly against his.
Lucy dropped back to her heels, not sure which emotion was stronger: humiliation or devastation.
She swallowed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Lucy stepped aside to flee upstairs to the safety of her bedroom, but he grabbed her, fingers wrapping around her upper arm, and dragged her against him.
Reece dipped his head, hesitating for a fraction of a second before whispering, “Fuck me.”
And then his mouth closed over hers, hot and possessive. Lucy gasped in surprise before opening her lips to his.
Reece’s hands found her shoulders, backing her into the front door. Once she was pinned between the door and his body, his hands lifted to her hair, tangling in it and tilting her head so he could take the kiss deeper.
Lucy kissed him back with everything she had, as one word looped on repeat in her head: finally.
Chapter 24
Lucy
The rain is vicious against our windshield and I try not to betray my nervousness as I glance down at my phone.
Reece doesn’t look away from the windshield, but his peripheral vision must notice. “Oscar again?”
Ugh. Oscar.
After nothing for days, Oscar’s apparently realized he acted like a tool and wants me back. I’m inclined to think the other girl realized he was a piece of crap and walked away. Had the guy chased after me then, I still wouldn’t have taken him back, but the fact that he waited for days? Pass.
Reece had finally caved, asked why my phone was blowing up, but after I told him, had merely muttered “That fucker,” and not mentioned it again.
“Nah. I bloc
ked him,” I say tapping my nails against the screen.
Reece whistles. “Damn. Cutthroat. You block me back then?”
“Didn’t have to. You didn’t exactly chase me down.”
He doesn’t deny it, and we fall back into tense silence as the rain pounds harder.
It’s been like this ever since our kiss, both of us lost in thought as we made our way to our next stop, retreating to our respective motel rooms. I spent the evening watching a weird documentary on the chocolate-making process, followed by Armageddon (classic), and talking myself into not knocking on Reece’s door like I wanted to.
The tension eased slightly when we met up for breakfast this morning, both of us committed to making polite small talk, but I think we both prefer the silence.
I look at my phone as it buzzes once more. “It’s my mom again,” I say with a sigh. “Says there’s a bunch of severe weather warnings coming our way.”
He laughs softly. “What, did she put a GPS tracker on Horny?”
“Nah, but you know Delia. Demands regular check-ins, knowing where we are, what we’re doing, who’s driving, how fast they’re driving.”
