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And depressed.
Gazing at him in the pale glow of his phone, I realize with a lurch in my stomach that I fell for him. Maybe not in love yet, but something that’s the first step. Watching him start to open has been a privilege. Seeing him learn to laugh and let his guard down is something I’ll always remember, no matter what happens in the end.
“We’re gonna be there soon,” he says, swinging off the freeway. We’re going past a ritzy mall, lit up in floodlights.
“Alright, calm down,” I say. “Or tell your dick to calm down.”
“Yeah, no chance of that.”
He flexes his leg, and the truck speeds up. Adrenaline hits my brain, and I feel a little bit drunk on him as I drag my attention to the screen. This time, I search for lingerie, and it comes up. All strappy, made of lace and gauze, and so damn serious, like I’m dressing for my wedding night. Something catches my eye, and I click on it, my heart in my mouth.
Before I lose my nerve, I put it in the cart and hit the buy button.
“Here,” I say, handing the phone back.
“And…we’re here.”
I look up. We’re off the parkway, going down a dimly lit paved lane that runs along a set of manicured trees. I squint at the ground. Is that…fake grass? The trees beyond it are real, but it’s so even, it looks like it’s plastic. I don’t have time to dwell on it, because we pull up to a gate, and a guard puts his head from the booth.
“Coen Taylor,” he says, taking out his wallet.
He doesn’t have to even show it. The gate goes up, and the guard tells him to have a nice night.
My toes curl in my shoes. Do I like this…a little bit?
“Is it too late to add anything onto the order?” he asks, pulling up a hill and into a smooth parking lot.
Up ahead is a hotel I can just tell costs real money. Everything is all on one level and made up of crisp, white, square segments. The big windows let out an orange glow. The trim is all black steel. Parked by the front are a row of sports and vintage cars. A valet loiters nearby in a perfect suit.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I mean, no, you have time to order something else.”
He takes out his phone, swipes it a few times, then puts it into his pocket. Then, he leans across the seat and takes me by the jaw. I see a flash of his dark eyes, and my stomach dips as his mouth meets mine. It’s a brief caress, and then he pulls back.
“This part of the trip is for you,” he says.
My heart hurts, in both the best and worst way. I don’t want this to end, but I don’t see how it won’t.
I close my eyes, and he kisses me again. When he pulls away, I get out of the vehicle and wait as he hands our things to the valet. Everyone is acting strange around him, like he’s royalty or something. I guess that’s what happens when he gets closer to the hub of country music, and he starts slinging his real name around. As we walk up the front walkway, I can’t stop from staring in awe as the lights come on and sprinklers rise in the lawn. So that grass is real, I guess.
I’m open-mouthed.
When I glance over at him, he’s just looking at me, dark eyes all soft and hungry. A delicious shiver goes down my spine. I love this feeling; for tonight, I’m Cinderella, stepping into his world. I want to hold on and savor every second.
Tomorrow’s worries are for tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
COEN
I’m the happiest I’ve been this whole damn time. Maybe all I needed was to focus on her and cut loose, stop feeling so damn insecure about what I’ve built and use it to make her smile.
I’m lost in my problems.
She’s the road to clarity.
My head is the clearest it’s been. Even the thought of having to go to the studio when we arrive in Nashville doesn’t seem so bad. Not if I have a chance to be with her all night…her in that little lace thing I saw in the app shopping cart when I added condoms and lube to it.
Before that, though, I’d like to wine and dine her a little.
