The radio plays softly in the background. The drive to my apartment would normally take about thirty-five minutes, and we sit in silence for the first five. It’s not awkward exactly, but with neither of us talking, it may cross over into that territory soon.
“You played well tonight,” I say, trying to make conversation.
“Thanks.”
More silence.
I stare out the window, watching the trees blur past.
Landon exhales through his nose, his eyes on the road. “About earlier,” he says, “in the locker room.”
My shoulders tense. “What about it?” I really don’t want to keep rehashing the same thing over and over again, but it’s hard to ignore the pull between us.
“I shouldn’t have cornered you like that.” His grip tightens on the wheel. “You told me to back off, and I didn’t.”
I don’t respond right away because there really isn’t anything to say. Also, I’m afraid things will go further, and I won’t want to stop it this time.
“I know nothing can happen between us,” he continues. “I know the rules, and I know what it would cost you.” He finally glances at me. “But that isn’t enough to stop me wanting things.”
My pulse kicks hard. “That doesn’t make it easier.”
“I wasn’t trying to make it easier,” he says. “I only wish the situation was different. My head is all messed up with things with Abby and things with you, but make no mistake, I want you, even just once.”
“Just once—would that even be possible?” I say, and his head whips around to look at me.
“Very possible,” he says with a smirk curving one corner of his mouth.
I clench my hands into fists. “This is a bad idea.”
“Probably,” he agrees.
My pulse is hammering as he takes a turn that’s not toward my apartment.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere more private,” he says simply. “Unless you object.”
I should. Every rational part of my brain is screaming at me to tell him to turn around—to take me home—but I don’t. Something Abby said during our date runs through my head, about it being okay sometimes to just say, “Fuck it.”
He drives for another few minutes, then turns down a road that leads toward the state park. It’s late, and there are no other cars. He shifts into park and turns off the engine.
“If you want me to take you home, I will.” Landon’s hands grip the steering wheel like he’s trying to hold on to his control. “Just say the word.”
I don’t say anything; instead, I unbuckle my seatbelt and shift in my seat so I’m facing him. I can see the muscles working in his jaw, and the tension in his shoulders.
“Just tonight,” I whisper.
“Yeah.”
“If anyone found out?—”
“I promise I won’t tell anyone, Tate. All I care about is this.”
He reaches over and cups the back of my neck, pulling me toward him. And god help me, I let him.
His mouth smashes against mine. I twist my hands in his shirt, fisting the fabric as I pull him closer. The gear shift digs into my hip, but I don’t care.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my mouth. “I have wanted to do that for so long.”
