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By the time Gemma arrived at my house, I was already waiting by the curb. Coming to a stop, she rolled down her window, and I ducked my head to see her. “You know what time it is?”
She pursed her lips, glancing at the clock on her dash. “Uh…4:37. Why?”
“Do you genuinely not realize you’re late, or do you not care?”
“Oh.” She let out a carefree little laugh.
“Oh?” I opened the passenger side door and dropped into the seat, adjusting it so my legs had more room. It was only marginally better. “That’s all?”
“What? I’m seven minutes late, big deal.”
“Gemma.”
Her teeth sawed into her lower lip, doing nothing to contain her amusement. “Jason.”
I tugged at my hair, my stress about being late ratcheting up. “It takes, like, twenty minutes to get to the country club from here on a good day.”
“Yeah.” She nodded and pulled into the street. “We’ll get there right on time.”
I wiped my hands down my face in irritation, and when she giggled, I leveled her with an annoyed gaze, “I can’t with you right now.”
“Relax. We’ll be there in plenty of time.”
“I can’t relax when traffic will add at least ten minutes to the drive time.” If there was one thing she had to know about me, it was that I wasalwayson time. “I’m buying you a watch.”
“A watch? Who wears watches anymore?”
I stuck out my left arm. “I do.”
Briefly taking her eyes off the road, she held on to my wrist, twisting the brown leather strap back and forth. “Yes, you do.”
She sounded all squeaky and very un-Gem-like. “What’s the voice for?”
“You have nice hands, is all.” She let go of me, and I settled my hand in her lap, gripping her cotton-covered thigh. She wore some kind of adult onesie pants thing. I didn’t understand it, but she looked damn good in it.
“You have nice everything,” I said in possibly the least suave compliment I’d ever given. She glanced my way, her dark eyes sparkling with mirth, and my mouth was a runaway train. “You’re gorgeous, but I hate that you’re so tardy all the time.”
“Tardy,” she repeated, laughing again, and the fact that I could put that look on her face, tease that unabashed sound from her, made me feel ten feet tall. “Sorry, Principal Mitchell,” she said seriously, “it won’t happen again.”
“Already on to role-playing, huh?” I sucked in a breath, tightening my grip on her thigh. “I could get down with that.”
She flicked at the collar of the white button-down I wore under a camel-colored sweater. “You look very academic.”
I rubbed my palm up and down the length of her thigh, and she pressed her legs together, trapping my fingers so I couldn’t continue toward the triangle of heat there. I leaned closer to her. “You like it?”
She lifted one shoulder, a few strands of hair falling out of her loose braid, and she tucked them behind her ear, her cheeks blooming red, goosebumps breaking out across the skin of her arm. “I’m not feeling super well-behaved, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Are you ever?” My mind reeled with possibilities of what I could do to this misbehaving girl, starting with stripping her of that black one-piece suit and bending her over the nearest hard surface.
“I don’t like being told what to do,” she said as if I didn’t know.
“Yeah, I got that.”
“And you can’t help but follow directions.”
I nodded. We were polar opposites, two hemispheres with completely different seasons, and I didn’t know if we could ever meet in the middle, but I was damn sure interested. I’d always wanted to visit the equator. Being with Gemma felt like that, blistering heat. Burning sensations everywhere. Hell, that kiss yesterday was enough to consume me late into the night. The early birds had begun to chirp before I’d finally gotten the taste of her lips and feel of her legs wrapped around me out of my mind.
That’s what she did. Made me feel out of myself, a little out of control, and I liked it.
