“To My Knees” by Two Feet plays from his speakers, but he didn’t put that on. A third of the way through my slushy, the coconut rum I poured into it after I stopped by my place to grab some things—Cyn was preoccupied, so mercifully I only had to text her about my exploits—and snagged the bottle from the freezer.
Faust eyed it disdainfully after I threw my matte black duffel in his backseat, but he didn’t say anything. Only put his car in drive and took us to Sonic. After we got our food, we pulled into a dark parking lot behind a shuttered old grocery store.
Now, alone with him in the dark of his car, a triple cheeseburger with only lettuce, pickles, and mayo between his fingers, I feel like this was a terrible idea.
Even worse than being in bed with him.
Because all I want is what I shouldn’t have. The hockey player who might be a stalker, possibly a murderer, or at least teammates with one.
The boy who might have the key to my closed heart in his pocket.
The same one who stood in front of my door, scratching at it in the dead of night while he texted me.
Was it really him? I don’t know yet.
We’re too close, and his dark eyes on mine as he chews with his mouth fully closed is doing things to me.
The windows are cracked, letting in a slice of icy air, but with his heat on and the seat warmer under my thighs, I long ago ditched my hoodie. I relegated it to his backseat and now my nipples tighten beneath the white, sheer cami I’m wearing.
But he’s still staring at my face.
“You’re so handsome.” The words slip out, and I know it’s from the alcohol and the lack of food—a double cheeseburger and tater tots are in the white bag at my feet, but I haven’t touched it—yet I don’t regret it.
Heishandsome. Square jaw, high cheekbones, broad nose, thoselips.And I know how soft they are on mine. And how big his dick is, even if I’ve not ridden it.
Yet.
He swallows, then lifts his brows. “Am I?” His voice is delicious too, husky and sensual, no matter what he says. I don’t think he’s trying, and that’s the sexiest thing of all.
I take another pull from my plastic straw, my fingers pressing against the soft cup as the syrupy concoction slides down my throat. There are no thoughts of murderers, stalkers, or even hockey in my brain. Nothing about essays or classes I could potentially miss in the morning—the poetry workshop will be boring without me but I’ll personally survive.
There’s only this moment.
Him.
Me.
“Yes.” A giggle leaves my lips and I grin afterward, my teeth flashing.
His nostrils flare slightly, his gaze dipping to my mouth. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
It really is as if my heart skips a beat. I can feel the palpitations in my chest, and I have to suck in air deep.
And take another drink.
I shake the slushy with one hand, as if the motion will ground me. I don’t usually get so silly in lust with boys. In fact, I pride myself on playing them instead of the other way around. But something about the quiet control of Faust Darling makes me feel like it might be safe to fall apart, if only for a moment.
He takes another bite of food, shifting his gaze from mine. I glance out the windshield. His headlights are off, and we’re facing the back of the old building. It’s beige brick, no windows here, a ramp I assume they used for loading up supplies when the trucks came.
Behind us, where he backed in, it’s forest, some of it encroaching on the chain link fence that marks off the property line. Dark flakes of snow misting in the air but only visible from the moonlight overhead. Sonic is in the suburbs of Drayton and we’re in a tiny town technically called Drusford, which means it’s quiet out here.
No one will find us.
Not so long as we’re hidden away.
I wonder if that’s what he’s thinking about.
Or maybe just the cheeseburger he polishes off with ease. He crinkles the wrapper, tosses it in his bag on the console, then pulls out the brown paper napkins. He wipes his mouth, then his hands. Afterward, that goes in the bag, too. He neatly folds itdown, twists around—giving me a view of his triceps beneath his black sweater—and puts the bag in the backseat.
