I don’t get a speeding ticket, but what I do get is a police escort all the way back to the airport with the full lights-and-siren treatment.
We take a few photos together, and I splash them all over social media.
Hey!I just met you,
And this is crazy,
But you were speeding,
So slow down maybe?
#WhereDamianAt #RespectTheBlue #HotCop
I jogup to the first ticket counter in the nearest terminal to the entrance, my bag flapping out behind me. “When’s your next flight to New York?” I ask, out of breath. The cop stands behind me.
“Where in New York?” the airport attendant asks, eyeing the officer.
“JFK or, or LaGuardia. Whichever one will get me home first.”
“Tomorrow at noon we have—”
I shake my head feverishly. “Thanks, but that’s too long of a wait. I need something sooner. I’ll check another airline.”
I run to the next airline counter. The officer, his name is Brady, points to another counter ahead of me. “I’ll check there while you check here.”
We run to each airline counter until I find the earliest flight I can book. The ticket is almost a thousand dollars, and I quietly sob to myself as I hand the woman my credit card. It’s a redeye flight that lands in JFK at five the next morning. I don’t care. It’s the quickest way to get home. I quickly text Dex and tell him when and where I’m going to arrive.
I sleep the entire flight and wake up to the person in the seat next to me shaking my shoulder hard. I yank up my bag from under my seat and nod a quick thank you.
I run through the terminal and out the departure doors. I jog through a crowd of people, barely able to feel my limbs. They’re numb and trembling.
Then I see him.
Dex is standing in front of his car, hands shoved deep into his pockets, waiting for me. He’s looking off to the right, biting at his bottom lip. When his gaze lifts and meets mine, a sharp twinge throbs deep in my chest. His lips explode into a smile and the small pang in my heart spreads like wildfire through my veins.
I rush across the distance between us.
He pulls me into his arms and we tumble up against the side of his car. Oh God, finally. Finally. I sag into his chest as his crushes my body to his. “Oh, Nash,” he whispers into my hair.
I’m suddenly hyperaware of everything. Every feeling and sensation. Every person walking past. Dawn hasn’t broken open the sky yet, and there’s a chill in the wind that’s cloaked with Dex’s cologne. My nipples pebble and harden into his chest. His hands cup around my neck, his palms warm against my skin. I know he must feel my pulse speeding and strumming wildly beneath his fingertips.
I wrap my arms around his waist and tighten my hold. I don’t want to let go, not yet.
“Damn, Nash. I missed this.”
“Me too, Vanstone.”
He drops his hands over my shoulders and down my arms, ending with them sliding over my waist and hips to rest on my bottom. In my ear his breathing hitches and his lips move next to my temple. “Get in the car.”
I tilt my face up to his and he leans down, brushing his lips over mine. “Car. In.” He reaches his arm behind me and opens the passenger door.
I don’t hesitate. I climb in and throw my small carry-on in the back seat. My insides shake as Dex jogs around the front of his car and opens his door. When he closes it behind him, the sounds of the world are instantly muted and we stare at each other. He swallows audibly and says, “I’m going to drive until I find a spot to pull over.”
My chest tightens and my thoughts freeze.
“I need to be inside you.” His voice falters and breaks. “Yeah?”
I’m suddenly aware of my own heartbeat; my fingers ache at the tips, and all my nerve endings stir and tingle. I nod like a bobble-head. “Drive fast.”
