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Fuck. Why did talking about snacks make me hard?
“Fine. But admit that when you mix M&M’s with popcorn, you get the best snack ever invented.” She unbuckled her seat belt and reached behind her seat for a shopping bag that she pulled up front.
“Get that damn buckle back on now,” I demanded, my voice coming out harsher than I meant it to. But who knew what could happen in this storm. I was trying to keep her calm, but we were in one of the worst storms I’d ever experienced, and I’d seen my fair share.
She snapped her seat belt back into place, pulled out a ziplock bag, and shook it around. “Relax. I’m buckled. Now say it, Reynolds.”
“Is it the only option you brought?” I asked, looking up ahead and seeing lights off to the side of the road. I knew that motel should be coming up soon, and we didn’t want to miss it, or we’d be at risk of running out of gas and sleeping in the car soon.
She huffed and reached into the bag. “I’m not an asshole. I brought another option. Popcorn and Hot Tamales. But come on, the chocolate mixed with the popcorn makes a sugary, salty snack that is absolute perfection. Yours is just… like having toothpaste with your popcorn.”
The years of debate over this was still fresh in my mind, but my chest squeezed that she’d remembered and brought my favorite snack.
“What can I say? I like a little spice with my snack.”
Motherfucker. I did it again.
My dick was raging with rebellion over fucking talk about Hot Tamales. Even the fear of being near death didn’t have him keeping a low profile. I shifted in my seat a bit, trying to get things under control.
“Is your back hurting?” she asked, and I could hear the concern in her voice.
“Yeah. Just getting a little stiff.” Well, the stiff part was true. I just wasn’t going to tell her it was my dick that was stiff all because she’d pulled out some fucking popcorn and candy. Before I knew what was happening, she unbuckled and scooted closer, and her hand slipped between the seat and my back.
I nearly jerked off the road when her hands pressed against my lower back.
“Jesus, Presley. Get fucking buckled,” I hissed.
“Stop being a stubborn ass and let me help you. I’m the one who got you into this mess. Let me try to give you some relief.”
She didn’t have a fucking clue how badly I wanted to be relieved.
“Presley.” My voice was firm, and there was no sign of humor.
“Yes?” she asked, as her fingers worked into my lower back, and damn, did it feel good, aside from the fact that my erection would require medical attention if she didn’t move the fuck away from me.
“I need you to slide over and buckle yourself into your seat,” I hissed. “Now.”
“I’m sorry. I thought it would help.” I didn’t miss the hurt in her voice.
She buckled herself back up and set the bag of popcorn and Hot Tamales beside me before turning her head to stare out the window.
“It wasn’t that it didn’t help. It’s not ayou thing. It’s a me thing.”
“Oh, don’t offend me with the,it’s not you, it’s mespeech. It’s clearly me. You’ve been cold to me since that day at the barn. You’re so freaking hot and cold you’re going to give me whiplash.” Now she was shouting. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who was all over the place.
“How exactly can’t you keep up? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Well, let’s see. You gave me a ride home the first night and acted perfectly pleasant. Well, as pleasant as you are capable of being. And then, Wes came to town, and you threatened to fight him. You wanted to take me home that night because you didn’t trust him. Then you came to the barn and couldn’t stand the sight of me. You agreed to come on the trip, but you barely looked at me when I got to the school. You are all over the fucking place, Cage Reynolds.”
There she is.
Full of life and fury.
I looked up to see the gas station and the motel a hundred feet ahead. Thank fucking God. I was starting to panic that we’d missed it because there was hardly any visibility at this point.
I pulled in, and Presley fell back in a fit of laughter as she looked at the huge sign lit up in red lights.
DIE.
