“What Nick?” she said against my palm, her voice muffled but clear.
“I’ll spank you so hard that you’ll see stars.”
She started shaking—and for a second I thought she might cry. But she laughed. She fucking laughed.
“You think that scares me, commando?” she said, still grinning, teeth flashing like a dare.
I pulled my hand away, but kept my weight against her, breathing hard. My skin was on fire. My chest ached with restraint.
“You think this shit is funny? You have fucking diabetes. Remember? You shouldn’t be fucking drinking.”
“For one, I came out here to check my blood sugar and take my insulin, but then after walking in on some girls talking shit about me, I thought it would be a good fucking idea to get tipsy.”
“You’re fucking weak.”
“Fuck them and fuck y?—”
My mouth crashed into hers.
I didn’t plan it. I didn’t think. I just needed her quiet. I needed her closer. I needed her like air.
Her lips opened under mine, soft and needy and furious. Ikissed her like I was starving. Like it would erase everything. The chaos, the guilt, the way she clawed at my logic until it bled.
A whimper slipped from her throat, and I swear it undid me. I grabbed the back of her neck, dragging her deeper into me. I couldn’t get close enough. Not with our bodies. Not with our mouths. Not with her soul that felt like it was constantly slipping through my fingers.
She smelled like roses and regret.
My hand slid to her scalp, tugging until her head tilted back. I dragged my lips to her neck and sank my teeth into her skin, just hard enough to make her gasp. She clutched my forearms like I was holding her up. Maybe I was.
A groan tore from me—low and primal—right as reality slammed back into my skull. We were in a church parking lot.
I pulled back, inch by inch, every part of me screaming to keep going.
She stood there panting, lips swollen, eyes dazed. We locked eyes—two broken people playing with fire.
“Get in,” I said, opening the door.
“What about your mom?”
“Now you give a shit?”
She didn’t answer—just stared. God, she looked beautiful. But even behind all that beauty, I could see it: shame. It clung to her like a shadow. No makeup could cover it.
“I’ll text her and let her know that you forgot your insulin, so we had to get back before you passed out.”
She nodded slowly, rounding the truck.
Just as I reached for the door handle, I heard her voice.
“Nick.”
I looked up.
She stood on the other side, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Thanks.“For what?”
“For proving me wrong.”
