He frowns, perplexed. “Really? I’ve never heard of it before.”
I can barely hold back a laugh this time. “Lex, you’d never heard of Britney Spears before I brought her up. I could fill a library with all the things you don’t know.”
He chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s true. Deep down, I’m just an idiot.”
The moment is weird, and even though I’m sober and can contain myself, he isn’t. I’m not sticking around to find out whatever inebriated thought he’ll spew out next. It sounds like a dangerous game where there’s no winner.
“Well, it’s good to see you’re sticking to your no-costume policy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back inside.” With that, I turn around and take a step toward the door.
“Actually, I tried this time. But I think I did it wrong. It’s too subtle,” he explains, piquing my curiosity.
I know I shouldn’t, but I take the bait and turn around, holding back a sigh. As my eyes glide over his familiar silhouette, I’m reminded of the muscular limbs under the fabric, the rippling abs on his stomach, the defined muscles of his arms… Fuck, I can almost remember the taste of his skin, the saltiness of it after sex, the way my soft shapes would mold against his strong body… I remember what it’s like to have him over me, the reassuring weight of him pressing me into the mattress, how handsome he looked as I straddled him with lustful enthusiasm…
As he waits for me to guess, I feel arousal take over my mind, tugging at my core, wetness pooling between my legs. I miss being intimate with him and how our bodies fit despite the height difference as he rammed into me with intensity. I’d give anything to experience all that again. To know passion in his arms one last time. To feel desired and wanted beyond reason.
Eager to put an end to this, I shrug my shoulders. I need to get away before I start begging for overdue breakup slex. “I don’t know. Are you younger Lex?” I ask, pointing at his old glasses.
The idea amuses him as a low chuckle imperceptibly shakes his shoulders. “Ah, that’s clever. But no, I’m not young me.”
“Then I don’t know.”
He throws his tie over his shoulder and undoes a few buttons on his shirt. His inebriated state slows his moves, but he manages, revealing something blue underneath. I’m not ready when he spreads his crisp white shirt open, revealing a large Superman “S” plastered on his broad chest.
My mouth dries up as he takes a heroic pose, looking afar. Holy shit. He’s Clark fucking Kent. This, right here, is a fantasy I’ve had of him from the very beginning. Fuck, I think I even had a wet dream about this at some point.
Mistaking the reason for my silence, Lex lets go of his shirt and looks at me with disappointment. “I’m Clark Kent,” he explains.
“Oh, I know. It’s… very fitting.”
“Yes, I thought you’d like it,” he agrees.
Wait, what’s that supposed to mean? Did he pick this for me? Why? I don’t have the time to overthink because he speaks again. “Well, I was supposed to come tonight to show I’m not a grumpy hermit—Kevin’s words, not mine.” He fishes his car keys from the front pocket of his pants and dangles them between us. “Mission accomplished, so I’ll head home. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Andrea.”
With that, he bows his head and turns around. I watch him walk away, wondering what the hell just happened. Given how distant he’sbeen, I was certain he was over us, but he picked a costume forme? It doesn’t make any sense. I’m tempted to ask him to be honest and tell me what it means. Drunk as he is, I might get some answers.
Fuck! He’s drunk. He can’t drive.
I groan, feeling stupid for not realizing it sooner, and go after him, my sandals making it hard to not fall flat on my face. He’s reaching his car when I catch up.
“Lex, you can’t drive.” He twists around and frowns down at me, confused. “I mean… You’ve been drinking, so you shouldn’t drive.”
He shakes his head, stubborn. “I’m good. I can handle myself.” He clicks on the key to open the car, pushing the wrong button first, and then clicks again, effectively unlocking the doors. “I’m good, Walker. Go back to the party.”
He grabs the handle to open the door, but I slam it shut. “I’m serious, Lex. You could kill someone.”
After some inner struggle on his part, he gives in.Smart man.
“If you want, I can order you a cab or an Uber,” I offer.
“I was taught not to get into strangers’ cars,” he replies sarcastically.
I squint my eyes at him, not amused. “Then I’ll drive you home,” I reply in the same tone, only realizing too late what it means.
Chapter 03
We both remain silent for several seconds, staring at each other as the implications of what I suggested sink in. Lex is the first to talk, saying with a deep frown, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”No shit, Sherlock…
“It’s either that or a cab.”
