Dylan clears his throat. “That’s the fantasy reason to move in together?”
“No. The fantasy reason is…”
I really love you.
We come to a red light, and I lean over to kiss him. “I just would want it to feel balanced.”
“I know.” He kisses me back.
“And this is all just talk, anyway,” I say, catching myself.
I put my foot down on the gas pedal harder.
* * *
“So what do you think?” I ask Dylan a while later. “About my car?”
“It’s good. It’s a little uh…jerkier than I’m used to,” he says as we struggle to get up a steep hill, and I have to press extra hard on the gas.
I smile over at him. Yes, my car definitely jerks as it switches gears, but we make it up the incline successfully.
“Bring back memories?” I say.
“Oh, yeah. My first car was way worse than this. So was my second one.” He pauses. “Can I drive it?”
“Sure.” I pull into a drugstore, and we switch seats.
Dylan grins as he puts the car into drive. “I’ll take us on a ride, baby.”
I laugh and buckle my seat belt.
Dylan drives until we reach the coast, and then he pulls over to a deserted beach and turns off the car.
“The whole place is empty,” he says, looking around the parking lot.
“It’s L.A. in February. No one goes to the beach this time of year.”
He returns his gaze to mine, and something in his expression makes my stomach clench.
“What?” I say nervously.
His hand goes to my hip. “I want to touch you like you touched me yesterday.”
My heart comes up into my throat.
“I want you to trust me that much, Jasalie.”
“I don’t know.”
Dylan leans me back against the door and reaches for the button on my jeans. “Why not?”
Giving is one thing. Receiving is another.
I try to breathe and collect myself.
But Dylan’s undone the button now. The ache between my legs is growing, and I’m losing my willpower.
“Dylan. I want to. I do. But I should tell you something first. It’s just that…”
