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He opens my door for me. Right before I climb into the car, I hear Thalia call my name again. I turn and find her running up to me.
“Hey,” I say hoarsely, ducking my head to discreetly wipe at my remaining tears. Oh jeez—I’m walking around in public, crying and snotting like a hot mess.
But Thalia only smiles at me. She briefly flashes Nolan a shy look as she slips a folded-up sheet of sketchbook paper into my hand.
She leans in by my ear. “The way he looks at you,” she whispers. “I would absolutely die if a guy ever looked at me that way.” With a giggle, she’s gone, running off to rejoin her friends.
I climb into the passenger seat and Nolan shuts my door. As he walks around to his side of the vehicle, I unfold the paper.
I gasp.
It’s the most beautiful pencil-sketched portrait of Nolan and me. Standing in the middle of the festival grounds, foreheads pressed together, looking mutually enamored, mumbling to each other. It’s the moment we first whispered our ‘I love you’s. And now, it’s forever captured on this sheet of paper.
Thalia has given me such a precious gift. I doubt that she even realizes it. It’s proof that I can hold onto. Evidence that I didn’t just hallucinate this whole thing. Nolan Brighton really loves me. It’s true.
Fresh tears spring to my eyes as I stretch the drawing across for Nolan to see.
A wide smile breaks out across his face as he takes it in. Then I feel his lips against the side of my head. Yeah.
Saturated. I feel absolutely saturated with love.
43
INEZ
We leave the art festival, horny as fuck and ready to tear each other’s clothes off.
Or, at least, that’s how I feel.
From the dark looks Nolan’s been sending my way ever since we climbed into his car, I’m willing to bet that he feels it too.
The drive across town is agonizing and far too long. When we’re a minute or two away from our destination, I lose the last shreds of my patience.
I reach over to where Nolan sits in the driver’s seat, focusing on the road as he drives us back home. I slide my hand up and down his thigh, over his jeans. His breathing deepens as my fingers trail closer and closer to his erection at each pass.
“Woman…” he growls, his nostrils flaring.
His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and I grin.
“Yes?” I ask innocently.
“You’re going to get us killed,” he warns.
Feeling extra devious as he turns onto his driveway, I crawl up on my knees in the passenger seat and lean over so I can put my lips on his skin. Pulling his collar aside a bit, I nibble on the spot between his neck and his shoulder, a place I know that drives him mad. He groans out loud and shifts in his seat.
“You better keep your seatbelt on,” Nolan croaks, clearly trying to keep his waning attention on the drive.
“Make me.”
By the time we pull up in front of the house, I’m halfway into his lap, ready to jump his bones right here in the car.
He parks in his usual spot, right beside my own car and I’m so impatient. So needy. But when I try to pull Nolan’s face down to meet mine, I realize he’s not in this with me. Not mentally, anyway.
Instead, he’s staring across the yard. Frowning.
I twist around to see what he’s looking at.
That’s when I notice that there is a vehicle parked beside Genevieve’s camper. A small hybrid two-door car that I’ve never seen before.
