“Keep staring at it like that, and it’ll catch fire.”
I turn to see Firebird strolling out of the motel, a sports bag slung over her shoulder. She isn’t looking as badass as she was yesterday—today’s a dress-down day, apparently. She still looks fire, though, especially now that I’ve felt her curves pressed into me, seen her stripped and bare beneath me.Okay, so maybe the Dodge does have a little competition.
I didn’t overthink it. Getting it on with Amy was never part of the plan, but I was so on edge once we got to the motel—hearing the neighbor pounding on the wall like that kind of took all that pent-upenergy I had and turned it into horniness. I wasthisclose to flinging the chips and vodka off the bed and pulling Amy onto my lap. When the girl next door started screaming louder, I knew exactly what Amy was thinking, but then she just jumped up and scurried into the bathroom, and at that point I was thinking I would just go for a run and call it a night. Until I ended up with her ass in my hands, that is.Damn. If she’d given me the green light, I would’ve just bent her over the sink as soon as she slipped out of the shower.The way her ass filled my hands like that…
The sex was insane. We were up most of the night, and even though I’m sleep-deprived, I’ve never felt better.
Today is going to be a good day.
“Here,” she says, throwing me a bottle. “Got us some water for the trip.”
It’s time for us to head back to Sycamore Heights, and if the roads are good, we should be back in time for practice this afternoon.Perfect.That means I only missed two sessions, which isn’t too bad, all things considered. It feels like we’ve been away for days.
“Amy… Thank you for everything. I mean it.”
She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “No worries.”
When people give, they usually expect something in return, but Amy isn’t like that—unless she’s just biding her time. Maybe she’ll turn around one day and ask for help burying a body, or something, and considering the side of her I saw back there in Brooklyn, the truth is I wouldn’t be surprised. I still have a whole bunch of questions about that, come to think of it—but it’s not the time.
For now, I’ve got my Dodge back, I’m taking it home, and that’s all that matters.
I walk over to Amy, my arms dangling by my sides. I don’t know what to do with myself.
Her brown eyes are sparkling.
“Be careful on the roads,” I warn.
She snickers. “You’reworried aboutme?Yoube careful, man. I’d hate for you to go through everything you did only to end up in some random crash. And you better not tank, after all the time I wasted on this—if you do, I’m coming for you.”
“You’ve got the sweetest way of saying things, you know that?”
“Just sticking to the facts.”
Speaking of facts…
I’m struggling for the words, here. I need to wrap up this weird-as-hell romantic getaway, while being a gentleman about the whole thing. It was insane and I loved every second of how her body felt against mine, but this isn’t going anywhere, and I need to make sure she gets that it was a one-off. I don’t know her all that well, but I’m not too worried—Amy doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who likes things getting too serious—but I still want us to have the conversation before we hit the road.
“Thanks for helping me blow off some steam, too.”
Urgh. That was rude…
My mind races as I try to figure out how to take that back. If Carrie were here, she’d be kneeing me in the balls right now, and I sift through all the countless conversations I’ve heard her having with Don. I could kick myself—I’m always bitching about being forced to listen to them working through their shit, and now that a few nuggets of advice would be a lifesaver, I’m drawing blanks.
“I mean, for last night. You know…”
This isn’t exactly my first time at the rodeo. I’ve had more morning-after-the-night-before chats than I’d care to count, and I’m usually pretty good at them. But for some reason, Amy makes me feel like a virgin—all tongue-tied and slow-brained.
Probably because I know she could do some serious damage to my face…
I try to get a read on her, but Firebird’s not giving anything away. She stands there staring at me like I’m an alien. I’m just trying tomake sure we’re on the same page, that’s all. Either she’s got an amazing poker face, or she doesn’t give a crap. And having spent the past thirty-six hours with her, I’m guessing it’s the latter.
“I mean, I just—”
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
“See how my lips are moving, and sounds are coming out of my mouth?” I quip. “What I’m saying, is that you and me, we—”
“I don’t need a post-fuck pep talk, Conley. I get it.”
