Once he’s recovered, he leans back slowly and gives me a look like I’ve grown a second head. “You want to dowhatnow?”
I cover my face with my hands, regretting every drop of tequila I had tonight. “Forget it. You’re going to make this unbearable.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, still sounding dazed. “I just wasn’t expectingthatfromyou.”
My spine straightens. I drop my hands and pin him with a glare. “What about me makes that so unbelievable?”
He has the audacity to look sheepish. “I don’t know. You’re just… you. All doe-eyed and innocent, saving wild animals like you’reSnow Whiteor some shit. You’ve never been the fool-around type, Quinnie.”
I scoff, annoyed and embarrassed in equal measure. “Yeah, well, maybe I should have been. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to humiliate myself by propositioning you for sex when I’m half drunk in the back of your pickup.”
His hands go up, placating. “Alright, alright. Slow down. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. What exactly are you asking me?”
I inhale deeply, my chest tight, and tip my head back toward the sky. “What I’m about to say is never to be used to make fun of me. Ever. For the rest of our lives. Or in the afterlife. Understand?”
He nods solemnly.
“Pinky swear?”
He smirks, and I can tell he remembers too—every ridiculous pinky swear we ever made. Him telling me he felt sad sometimes too. Me taking the blame when he left the gate open and half the herd escaped. Brody Connors telling everyone I was a terrible kisser.
His pinky curls around mine, and his lips tip up into a small smile. My stomach flutters like there are a million butterflies taking flight.
“I know this probably isn’t a shock,” I say slowly, “but I haven’t really explored much. Sexually, I mean.” I wince, forcing the words out. “There are things I’ve thought about. Things I want to try. A few I’ve maybe written down."
I shrug helplessly. "But my dating life’s a mess and I—I can’t just check them off with someone I don't know.”
“Like some kind of kinky bucket list?”
I snort, glancing at the playful gleam in his eyes. “Something like that.”
The tequila makes everything feel just a little floaty—like I’m watching myself from the outside.
“You were right earlier,” I admit, voice quieter. “I’ve never really been the fooling-around type. But I’ve got time now. And I want to try things—figure out what I like with someone I trust. Someone who won’t make it weird. Maybe then my next boyfriend won’t feel the need to cheat on me every time I turn my back.”
I shift in the truck bed, suddenly feeling too warm, and inhale the clean, cool country air.
“I trust you, Tripp. And you’re…” I gesture vaguely. “Experienced. So I thought maybe...”
His brow lifts, his mouth twitching like he’s trying to suppress a smile. “So, you thought since I check all the boxes, you’d ask me to help you out with your dirty bucket list?”
I wince. “Okay, yeah, when you say it like that, it sounds crazy.“
“Might have something to do with all the tequila you drank,” he mutters.
I peek at him between my fingers. “Look, obviously you don’thaveto say yes. You’re probably not even interested in me like that, so I totally get it. I just… I wanted to ask. Before I chickened out.”
He doesn’t answer right away. His expression shifts—brows drawn, lips pressed together like he’s trying to figure something out.
He looks worried. Torn.
That alone tells me everything. Tripp Matthews never hesitates. If he’s hesitating now, it’s because he’s trying to let me down gently.
I move to hop off the tailgate, but his hand grips my arm before I get anywhere. His gaze drops to my mouth, and for a moment the tension hanging in the air is so thick I can’t breathe. He leans in, close enough that I catch the faint scent of beer on his breath, and my eyes fall closed.
I’m sure he’s going to close the space between us—but the kiss never comes.
Instead, he cups my cheek, his thumb brushing the line of my jaw before he tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
