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“I know I like you,” she admits, biting her lower lip. I must give her a questioning look because she continues on. “What? I do.”
“You’re loyal to me? To the Constantines?” I lift a brow, waiting for her answer. Hating how heavy my chest suddenly feels.
“What else do I need to do.” She leans in closer to me, her face practically in mine. “To prove that I would never want to hurt you?”
I stare into her blue eyes, pleased by her words, and the meaning behind them. “I don’t want to hurt you either.”
Her smile is faint. “Good. We’re on the same page, then.”
“Let’s go to a diner for dinner.” My stomach hurts, I’m so hungry. And she doesn’t even bat an eyelash at my change of subject.
“What? And eat greasy hamburgers and French fries coated in salt?” Her brows lift.
Nodding, I kiss her again. Like I can’t get enough. “Sounds fucking delicious.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
“And after we eat, I’ll take you somewhere with a nice view and fuck you nice and slow in the back seat of the car?”
“I’d rather fuck you in the front seat, with it pushed all the way back,” she suggests softly.
I smile.
“Deal.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Charlotte
It feels likePerry and I are on a real date, which is kind of funny because it means we’ve been doing this relationship thing completely backwards. Not that I mind.
Well, I did mind, but I learned how to work with it and now I actually like Perry.
I especially like Perry when he drives fast, with that easy confidence behind the wheel, despite how much it scared me. He looked so relaxed, his body slouched, one hand on the wheel, the wind blowing through his hair after he rolled the window down.
And I really like it when he reaches over and slips his fingers between my thighs. That was all sorts of hot. I didn’t mean to come so fast but I wasn’t lying when I told him I missed him.
That I was horny for him.
All damn day.
We’re at a diner I found thanks to me searching on Google. It had good reviews and it looked crowded when we pulled into the parking lot—all good signs. The moment we got seated, we both ordered cheeseburgers and fries plus two milkshakes. I got strawberry and he got chocolate.
“What made you get the Chevelle out?” I ask him after our milkshakes are delivered and we’re spooning up ice cream and shoveling it into our mouths like a couple of little kids.
“Telling you about racing made me miss her.” He licks his spoon, the sight of his tongue doing things to me. Twisting me up inside.
Making me want him.
“She’s a her, huh?”
He nods, dunking his spoon back into his milkshake and swirling it around. They served the milkshakes to us in those old-fashioned green glasses, the spoon handles skinny and long so they can reach the bottom. “Never actually named her though.”
“You should,” I suggest, trying to slow down from eating too much ice cream. I still have a cheeseburger and fries to enjoy. “What girl names do you like?”
“Charlotte.” He grins, a thin line of chocolate sitting on his upper lip. “That name is cute.”
“Too formal.” I tap my upper lip. “You’ve got—”
