Before I can even catch my breath, Ben’s out of his truck and at my window, tapping. My heart lurches into my throat.
He leans in as I roll the window down, voice a low tease. “You coming, or are you gonna hide in there all night?”
God. I could drown in those eyes.
I unbuckle stupid-fast and stumble out, nearly tripping over my own bag. Ben catches my elbow, steadying me like he doesn’t want to let go.
“I hope you’re ready,” he says, eyes locked on mine. “Tonight, you’re not getting away with leaving early.”
I’m not even sure I remember how to form words, so I just nod.
The sun’s barely down, but already the drive-in’s alive. There are kids yelling over the fence, someone blasting old Taylor Swift three rows back, popcorn smell drifting through the air. Most cars are spaced out, two or three together here and there, but Ben parked us right in the dead center. Like he owns the whole place.
“Wait here,” he says, already making his way to the back of his truck.
He reappears holding a duffel bag, a couple of sodas, and a stack of movie candy.
“Holy shit,” I blurt, opening the truck door for him. “Did you rob a snack bar?”
Ben grins. “Nah, just prepared for all emergencies.” He leads me to the passenger side before he slides back into the driver’s seat, dumping all the snacks between us. “Didn’t want you getting hungry. Or cold.” The way he says it, eyes darting to my knees, has my skin tingling all over again.
He rifles through the bag, pulling out a blanket, navy blue and soft as sin. He drapes it over my lap, his knuckles brushing my thigh on purpose, then grabs some Skittles and tears open the wrapper with his teeth. “Want some?”
I take the candy, mostly to keep my hands from shaking. “You always bring girls to the drive-in, or am I special?”
Ben pretends to consider, pressing a finger to his chin. “Hmm, that’s a tough one.”
My mouth falls open. “That’s not…”
“I’m joking!” He leans in closer, half-whispering, “Trust me. You are definitely the only special one, and yes, you’re the only girl I’ve ever brought here.”
There’s a shiver that runs up my arms, even under all the heat. I help him spread the snacks out across the dashboard, feeling stupid at how giddy it makes me. Our hands touch, fingers intertwining and releasing. Every time, the spark jumps higher.
The previews start. Ben drops his seat back just a little, slouching, and pulls me over until my thigh is pinned against his. There’s honestly no universe where I pay attention to a single frame on the screen.
Instead, all I can focus on is the bone-melting heat where we’re touching. How grounded he feels, like if I let go I’d float away completely.
Minutes pass. I pick at the blanket, twist it in my hands, fixate on the way his leg presses into mine. Outside, the breeze picks up, carrying the distant sound of laughter, but inside the truck it’s muggy and warm. I can see our breath start to fog the windows.
Ben’s hand lands on my knee. There’s no warning, only the rough heat of his palm and then slow, deliberate motion.
I freeze. It’s not fear. More like every muscle in my body on fire.
He starts drawing little circles, his thumb working tiny patterns into my bare skin. I lean into him. Words long gone. The movie background noise.
Ben looks down at me, dark eyes hungry like he knows exactly how he’s affecting me. Without a word, he slides higher, fingers inching up my thigh under the blanket. Higher, higher, until my breath starts hitching in my chest.
My entire brain is melting.
He keeps his hand moving in lazy motions up and down the outside of my leg, messing with the hem of my skirt, then dropping low again. Each time, my pulse jacks up a notch, skin hypersensitive.
He leans over, lips inches from my ear. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”
Something about the way he says it sounds possessive, but gentle, making my heart stutter, then race even faster.
Movie noise—explosions and car chases—sounds outside. Who gives a shit.
Ben’s fingers slide under the blanket, under my skirt this time. When he presses his palm to my inner thigh, my legs part like muscle memory. I can’t even pretend to be subtle.
