"No. I just need to be alone until I can get my head straight."
"Okay. So, when that happens, you tell me. You say 'I need space' and I'll give you space. It's not complicated."
"It's not that simple."
"Why not?"
Because every other person in my life has eventually gotten tired of dealing with it. Because the last woman I tried to date lasted three weeks before she decided my baggage was too heavy to carry. Because I'm convinced that eventually Claire will realize she deserves better and I'll have to watch her walk away.
But I don't say any of that.
"What if it's too much?" I ask instead. "What if you can't handle it?"
"Then I'll tell you," she says simply. "Just like you'll tell me if I do something that triggers you. We'll figure it out as we go. That's what people do, Nash. They communicate."
She makes it sound so easy.
Maybe it is easy. Maybe I've been making it harder than it needs to be.
"You really want this?" I ask. "Want me? Even knowing—"
"Yes." She doesn't hesitate. "I want you. All of you. The parts that are easy and the parts that are hard. The nightmares and the scars and whatever else comes with you."
Something in my chest loosens.
"I'm going to fuck this up," I warn her.
"Probably. I'll fuck it up too. We'll fuck it up together."
Despite everything, I smile. "You've got an answer for everything."
"It's my superpower." She leans in and kisses me softly. "So, are we doing this? For real?"
"Yeah." I pull her closer. "For real."
She smiles against my lips and kisses me again, deeper this time. And just like that, the knot in my stomach is gone.
We sit there for a while, just kissing. Slow and lazy and perfect. The rain is still coming down hard outside, drumming on the roof, and I've never been more grateful for a broken-down car in my life.
Claire shifts in my lap and I feel it immediately, the way her body presses against mine, the softness of her thighs on either side of my hips. And my cock, which had finally calmed down after she sucked me dry, starts to take notice.
She feels it too. I know because she makes a small sound and rocks against me slightly.
"Again?" she murmurs against my mouth.
"Can't help it. You're in my lap."
"Should I move?"
"Don't you dare."
She laughs, grinds down, and I groan. I'm getting hard again. Fast. Already thinking about what it would feel like to be inside her. To peel that dress off and see all of her. To spread her out and taste her properly instead of just using my fingers.
But we're in a car. A small car. On the side of the road.
"We should probably try to get some sleep," I say, even though sleep is the last thing on my mind.
"Probably," she agrees.
