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Bryson squeezes my kneecaps.“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”I scoot forward and reach out for a hug, parting my knees so he can stand between my legs and be closer.His arms come around me and he surrounds me like always, all him and his earthy scent.He’s so warm, so calming.It’s like a drug.
“Real proud of you, Carleigh,” Bryson says into my hair.“Knew you could do it.”
“I’m so glad you came,” I say softly.“I wanted you to come, but it’s so far away, it felt stupid to ask.”
Bryson pulls back and smiles down at me with his deeply blue eyes.They twinkle in the sunlight.“Anything for you, Carleigh.”
I swallow, and search his face, lifting one hand from his arm to carefully trace the edge of his jaw.He’s really handsome, and masculine in a way I never expected to be so into.I can’t believe this guy is also so kind, funny and smart, the guy that charmed both my stuffy lit professors and my coolest friends, who’s looked out for me since before we were even friends.God, I want him.
“Never?”I ask, my voice almost a whisper.
Bryson is looking at me intensely, and right now it’s just the two of us, here by this truck and this woodpile.No one else exists.“Carleigh,” he says, his voice ragged.
My hand cups the side of his face.I tilt my head up slightly and lean forward, then, like a prayer into the wind, I kiss him softly.
It lasts only a second, and when I pull back he’s staring at me, expression unreadable.
There’s a moment of silence, with only a bird chirping and the wind in the trees, where I think I’ve misread the entire last few months.Then his hands grip my hips, haul me forward, and we’re kissing again.
The kiss is intense, but gentle in the same way that Bryson is, careful, yet all-in.I hook my right leg over the back of his thigh, tugging him toward me.His hand slides around from my right hip, up the side of my thigh and over to roughly palm at my ass.I groan into his mouth, parting my lips, and he uses it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss.
My hands slide over his biceps, squeezing his muscles, until I’m grasping at his shoulders.He lifts me off of the tailgate like I weigh nothing, supporting me with his hands at the back of my thighs, and I wrap my other leg around him, too.If we weren’t in public right now, I would have half a mind to let go of him and lay myself flat on the truck bed; it’s the perfect height for him to fuck me like this; rough and wild like I think he might be.
But I’m Carleigh, and he’s Bryson, and I want more than for it to be like that right now.I need something different.I break the kiss, breathing heavily for not the first time today, and hug his neck so tightly, that I might compromise his air supply.
He’s with me, of course, in sync like usual.He sets me down on the tailgate again, but he still holds me close, his grip firm and secure on my hips and my back, until my breathing settles.
Bryson grips the side of my ribs with his right hand.This time, I’m fairly certain that his thumb rubbing the side of my breast is entirely intentional.“Wow, Carleigh,” he breathes, his eyes almost closed.
“Yeah,” I agree, staring at the faded gray of his t-shirt.“Wow.”I flick my eyes up nervously to his face.“Hey Bryson?”
His eyes open.“Yeah?”
I lean up and kiss him again, delicately this time.“Thank you.It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” I say softly.
Bryson’s big hand shifts on my side and his thumb brushes over my nipple.The pressure is ever-so-slight through the layers of my shirt and bra, but it feels incredible all the same.“I really like you, Carleigh,” he says, leaning in to press another kiss to my mouth.“I like you so much I think I might fall apart.”
“Bryson,” I breathe, feeling the beginnings of a familiar coiling sensation between my legs as his thumb makes another pass.“Me, too.”
“Thank god,” he says, giving a heavy exhale.His head lifts and he seems to realize where we are, because then he abruptly moves his hand to my leg, clears his throat and says, “Jesus Christ, Carleigh, I’m sorry – just wanted to kiss you and here I am feeling you up right here where anyone could see.”
He’s making good points.“I didn’t mind,” I say, feeling almost shy, but yes.Public groping is bad.“But yeah, maybe – maybe not here.”
Bryson nods.“Yeah, right.”He steps back and begins piling wood in the truck again.“We should probably get back soon.”
I hop down.“Here, I’ll help.”
We grab a few more pieces of wood, then Bryson shuts the tailgate with a firm slam.“Carleigh, do you think – I don’t know about you, but Quinn’s been on my ass about you for a long time now, and I’d rather not give him the satisfaction ‘til we’ve worked out, um – like, worked out what this –”
He looks so helpless and nervous, so I cut him off, taking pity.I know exactly what he means.“I agree,” I reply, and he looks relieved.“I really like you, Bryson,” I add gently.“A lot.But we live together and it’s complicated and I think we should take it slow.Including maybe not making a big deal out of it yet to our friends.”
Bryson taps his temple, finger brushing against his backward baseball cap.“Same page, Carleigh.”He opens the door of the truck for me, then goes around to the driver’s side and gets in himself.When we’re inside, he adds, “To be clear, if they ask, I don’t want to lie.”
“No, of course not,” I say quickly.“But no – like, no announcements.”
He nods and starts the truck.I watch him stare at the steering wheel for a second.Then he undoes his seat belt, leans over, and kisses me.His palm rests on my thigh gingerly.
