“Well, that’s not what the evidence on my shoes says,” he teased, grinning in a way that made my stomach flutter.For a moment, I found myself staring at his smile, but then I snapped back to reality, mentally scolding myself. I couldn’t afford to fall into old habits again.
“Okay, fine. I’ll just walk,” I muttered with a resigned sigh. “It was nice meeting you.” I turned and began walking down the path.
“I can give you a ride,” he called out, his tone eager. He quickly fell into step beside me. “I didn’t have anything to drink tonight. Got off work late and came straight here for the fireworks.”
“No, you really don’t have to do that,” I insisted, my pace quickening. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. “Don’t you have friends waiting for you or something?”
“I haven’t seen them since the fireworks, and my phone’s dead. They’re probably cabbing back. Besides, I insist. I’d feel horrible if I left you alone after seeing you ... well, you know, vomit your guts out.”
I stopped walking and sighed, knowing I couldn’t talk him out of it. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he replied, extending his hand. “I’m Connor.”
I hesitated for a moment, but then took it, offering a quick, polite handshake. “Rose.” I could feel the warmth of his skin, the pulse thrumming through his veins. I forced myself not to focus on it, trying to ignore the desires surging inside me.
We remained silent for the rest of the walk. When we reached a white van, Connor stopped, his hand sweeping toward it. “This is me.”
“You’re not going to kidnap me, are you?” I asked, eyeing the van.
“Hey, people give white vans a bad rap,” he said, opening the passenger door for me. I wiped my boots on the grass before climbing in. Once seated, I noticed a peculiar smelland saw empty cartons of chocolate milk scattered across the floor.
Connor apologized about the mess and tossed the cartons into the back of the van. They bounced off the various musical instrument cases cluttering the space. “Everyone’s got a vice,” he explained with a grin.
Little does he know.
He turned the key in the ignition, and the van struggled to start, the engine turning over repeatedly before finally roaring to life. Once it started, he peeled off into the night.
“Where am I taking you?” he asked.
“I’ll give you directions,” I said, drawing my knees up and holding them on the dashboard. Hunger gnawed at me, quiet but insistent. I could feel it, crawling beneath my skin, something feral and unfinished.
“Why haven’t I seen you around here before?” Connor asked, his look flicking over to me.
“Who’s to say you haven’t?” I said, keeping my tone neutral. The truth was, I hadn’t been in a car this close to a human in ages. Being near him made me feel uneasy. The tightness in my skin, the pounding in my head …it was all too much.
“I think I’d remember seeing you,” he said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s not what it sounds like. I just—”
“It’s okay, I’m teasing you,” I interjected, offering a reassuring smile.
“Well, you’re not from Lakeview. I grew up here, so I’d know if you were. Where are you from?” Connor asked.
“I’m just passing through,” I replied.
“Guess that’s why I’m driving you to the motel then?”
I caught his smirk.
“I won’t give you directions anymore,” I sat back in the seat.
We didn’t speak as the road blurred by, the last of the New Year’s partiers making their way home. Connor turned into the parking lot of the motel and cut the engine. The sudden quiet seemed louder.
“This is it.” He shifted, the fabric of his leather jacket crinkling as it brushed the seat. Then he leaned in closer. His gaze locked with mine, and I could feel the intention behind it. He was close enough that I could taste the mint on his breath. Had it always been there? Or had he planned for this moment, hoped for it, gum tucked between his cheek like a promise?
“Maybe we can see each other again before you leave?” he asked, his voice low and filled with anticipation. “My band plays most nights at the Winking Judge. You should come by.”
