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And there go my panties.
Chapter Two
Rueben
I know she’s behind me. I can feel it. It’s like her presence envelopes me, wrapping around me like a hug and refusing to let go.
I noticed her in the airport way before I spoke to her. She was standing there, her hair all crazy from her flight, and staring at her cell phone. Long, nimble fingers flew over the screen, her teeth nibbling at her plump bottom lip as she read whatever was displayed. It was the first time in nearly a decade that I saw her, and I wasn’t prepared for my body’s response. First, the sexual desire that struck like lightning, and then the overwhelming sense of right. It was as if I were finally home.
And that’s crazy talk, considering I never saw Cricket like that before.
Sure, she’s always been gorgeous with her long, dark hair and hypnotizing green eyes. Hell, you might say she’s always been a step above gorgeous, not that I ever said it aloud. In fact, I never said anything at all. She was my friend. My friend, Crick.
And she was dating my buddy.
I never so much as felt a stir in my pants around her before today. Well, hell. That’s not entirely true. The day I helped her load up her shit into the rental car to drive to San Francisco, I felt something—something strong (and hard, if you know what I mean)—but I blamed the emotions of goodbye. She was leaving. Danny had already left, and Cricket was off too. I was left behind, anxious to start my new career in computer forensics and melancholy that my friends were off to parts of the world I’d probably never see.
Now here I am, headed to my rental car with Cricket just a few steps behind me. I slow down and let her pass, but that doesn’t help the substantial erection concealed in my pants. Her ass is framed by a pair of sexy black leggings. My eyes seem to be glued to it as if the key to world peace is hidden there.
Shit, don’t get me started on finding peace with Cricket’s ass.
I glance back up just in time to see her head swinging back around. Great. Now she just caught me staring at her delectable ass and is probably ready to run screaming from the parking garage. No doubt she’ll be more comfortable catching a ride to Carbondale tomorrow. She never really did care about the football games anyway. Cricket only went because of Danny.
Danny.
Another wild card in this weekend’s festivities.
I’ve talked to my former roommate a few times over the years, but this’ll be the first time I’ve seen him in a decade. You know, after he sent me a text that he left town and asked me to go get what was left of his shit from the place he shared with Cricket? He begged me to drive it out to him too, which I ended up doing. Why, I’ll never know. Especially since he never actually went to San Francisco and ended up in LA instead. Los Angeles really wasn’t my thing, which is why I’ve never went back. Part of me wanted to tell the asshole that if he would have stayed and broken up with his girlfriend the right way, he would have been able to collect his shit himself. But no, the dumbass grabbed a few things, the keys to the car they shared, and sent texts when he was a state away.
I double click the unlock button on the keyfob, lighting up a new model SUV. No, I don’t need it for the luggage space, clearly, but more for the body space. No way was I interested in cramming my six-foot-two inch body into a compact. Instead, I spent the extra hundred bucks for a more comfortable ride.
Cricket’s already at the hatch, popping it open and setting her laptop bag inside. When I get to where she’s standing, I catch a trace of something fruity with a hint of floral. It’s familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. All I know is it’s very Cricket, and I only want to smell more. Fuck, do I want to run my nose along her neck and inhale.
Assuming the request to whiff her will probably freak her the fuck out, I toss my bags and hers into the SUV and shut the hatch. “Let’s roll,” I holler, heading over to the passenger door.
Cricket looks at me like I’ve grown a second head as I pull it open for her. Her eyebrows shoot skyward in question. “What’s this?”
“What? I’ve always been polite,” I state as she climbs into the seat.
“Polite, yes, but I believe the last time you held the door open for me, you intentionally closed it on my ass.”
“You were taking too long,” I tease, recalling exactly when she’s referring to. One night, the three of us were going to grab a burger. Danny was driving their car and I refused to get in the back seat for fear that I’d never be able to climb out again without extraction assistance. Cricket was whining about having to sit in back and taking her sweet-ass time, so when she was bent over and crawling behind the front seat, I pushed the door so that it whacked her in the butt. She went flying into the back seat and the profanity spewed like hot lava, but I smiled the entire way to the burger joint.
“It wasn’t easy getting into the back seat of that two-door.”
“And you wonder why I never wanted to ride back there?” I ask, propping my forearm on the roof of the vehicle and leaning in just a bit. Again, I catch her scent and it makes me a little dizzy.
“Not my fault you’re giant-sized.”
“Nope, that would be my dad’s fault,” I say, shutting her door and heading around to the driver’s side. I take a deep, cleansing breath before opening my door and sliding into the seat. I buckle up quickly before pushing the button and starting the SUV. We’re silent as I pull out of the garage and head toward the highway. It’s been a while, but I’ve made the trip from St. Louis to Carbondale and back a few times, so finding my way shouldn’t be too hard.
When I finally merge onto I-64 East, Cricket cuts through the silence. “How is your family?”
“They’re good. Mom and Royce moved to Tennessee a few years back.”
“To be close to you?” she asks. I can feel her smile from here.
“Yeah. Royce is working for some zipline company in Gatlinburg and Mom works at a bakery.” Royce is four years older than me and has been out of the Army for some time now. He manages one of those tourist zipline companies, which is right up his thrill-seeking alley. And Mom? Well, she’s happy anywhere she can bake cookies and breads. They’re a stone’s throw away from Pittman Center, a small town of about five hundred, and the place I call home. Of course, home to me is a fifteen hundred square foot cabin in the Smoky Mountains with only a single access road to get there.
