She’s dead serious. I try not to laugh.
“You want me to sit on this?” she asks again, toeing the rope.
I laugh and step out onto the ropes, carefully balancing the two baskets of food in one hand and my beer in the other. I lower myself to a crouch and hold out the tacos like bait.
“If you want your tacos, you’ll have to.”
“Holding tacos hostage is low, Jeff. Even for you.” She steps out onto the net and uses the top of my head to steady herself when she tips to the side a little.
“You are so insanely graceful.”
She plops down beside me and gives me the finger before grabbing her taco basket from my lap.
“Motor skills were never my forte,” she says before taking a huge bite of the softshell brimming with meat and cheese.
“That explains the injury,” I tell her. The carne asada smells almost as amazing as her hair. “What is your forte?”
She chews slowly, her eyes closed while she savors the meat and cheese. I’m reminded of the goddamned cupcakes.
“Not this again,” I murmur to the sky.
She licks her lips and chuckles, then answers my question.
“I’m sure you’ve picked up on my many strengths.” She puts her fingers out and starts to tic them off. “Rule-making. Chicken husbandry. Classroom pageantry. Algebra. Karaoke?—”
“That last one was a surprise to me,” I tell her around another bite.
She freezes, processing what I’m saying.
“Oh commmme on.” She drops her taco in the basket. Puts a hand over her face. “You saw the video?”
“Many, mannny times,” I tell her. “You were really good. You know. Until you weren’t.”
“Fucking Tara. I was about to hit that running man so hard,” she whispers. She looks over at me and matches my grin. I take a sip of my beer, watching her over the rim of the cup. The streak of pink along her cheekbones deepens a shade to crimson and her bottom lip pulls between her teeth. Her wide eyes water in the breeze. She looks so innocent.
“Jeff,” she starts, leaning closer so that her arm is pressed against mine. “Can we have sex tonight?”
I spit out my beer. The two men beside us lift their heads and look our way. Devon laughs and winks at me.
“Direct communication. Another forte,” she says, reaching out to push my jaw upward. “I’ve just been thinking that this,” she points between us just like she did last night, “really needs an outlet. You know, to get out of our systems before we fry from the inside.”
Ah. She thinks this is just some sexual tension then. Can’t pretend that doesn’t hurt. I push my lips together, study her veryserious expression. She’s all business right now. If that’s what she wants to tell herself, I’ll let her have it. For now.
“So, can we have--?”
I press my mouth to hers and I’m immediately rewarded by a soft moan as she lies back into the net. Kissing her makes everything around us fade away; the soft sloshing of water against the pylons beneath us falls beneath the amazing sound she makes when I deepen the kiss. When her half-eaten taco basket tilts off her lap and plops into the water below, I go to pull away, but she puts both hands in my hair and whispers “Fuck the tacos” into my mouth. I’ve never wanted anything like I want her right now and if we don’t get off this net there’s a solid chance of this PDA becoming something illegal.
I move my lips to her neck and ask her if she’s ready.
“How far?” she breathes.
“Four blocks.”
I nibble at her ear and she hisses.
“Get an Uber and we can have an epic makeout sesh in the back,” she says with a wide smile.
My phone is out, Uber app open and ready, before she even has a chance to swipe my carne asada and take a bite.
