“You okay, pidge?” he called.
“Yes.” I just had to be careful and try not to focus on sex. This was his first real relationship. We’d share so much more than that. I pressed a chilled facecloth to my neck before rejoining my date.
As we walked downstairs, I studied his gait for any signs of fatigue. He was going slowly, but maybe that was because I kept circling him. “A-are you sure you’re not too tired to take me home?” I asked.
“I’m good.” He smiled, passing me.
“Okay, but you’ll have to drive back too, so—”
“Trust me. I can do this,” he said, pivoting to meet me at his eye level.
Trust him.Right. I did.
I took his hand and his word that we’d be okay.
Once we got into the car, he glanced at me, a smile playing on his lips.
I gripped my seatbelt. “What?”
“You’re on the edge of your seat,” he noted.
“No, I just…remembered my tights. I left them in here last time.” I felt around in the darkness near my legs until I clasped something mesh. “Aha, found them.”
But when I yanked them out, they were tangled in a pair of underwear: his.
I squeaked in embarrassment. They were the same brand as our moonlight swim, but not the same color. My heartbeat thumped hard in my chest.
Did he undress in his car a lot? With other people? Enough that he’d lose a pair of underwear and not notice?
“You okay?” he asked.
I shoved the clothes under my leg. “Y-yes. Thought I saw a snag. Nothing a little nail polish couldn’t fix.”
“My resourceful little pigeon.” He patted my knee, his touch lingering.
I was his, right? And he was mine. Whatever he’d done before—and whoever it was with—that didn’t matter. Even if all ladies were ‘pigeons’ to him.
I twisted the tights around my hands to keep my insides from tangling. “We’re monogamous now, right?”
“Yes.” He chuckled. As if it was so obvious.
But relationships could be complicated.
A fist lodged in my throat. “Does that mean you won’t skinny dip with anyone else…or call them ‘pidge?’”
He took my hand, then kissed the back of it. “You're the only one, pidge.”
Good.
No more missing underpants, then. I'd leave the rogue pair slightly more visible so he’d be able to clean them up without any awkward conversations about howthosegot there. Maybe I could convince him to sanitize this whole interior. I shuddered at the idea of whatever might’ve happened here before me.
He parked and helped me untangle from my tights. “You cold?”
“N-no. I’ll be fine. It’s only a few steps into the house.” I tucked my tights into my waistband. “Hopefully, my parents will be in bed, so theywon’t see this bulge and question if another one of their daughters is pregnant,” I joked.
“Hmm. Why don’t you use this?” He flapped his arms out of his designer hoodie. “It’s oversized enough to hide the bulge, and it’ll protect you from the cold, even if it is just a few steps.” He wrapped the jacket around my shoulders.
It was still warm.
