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Her eyes open lazily once her body calms, and she catches me staring at her. Her lips curl up into a smile, and she takes my jaw between her palms and presses her lips softly to mine, a tender kiss after an intense act between us.
I draw in a deep breath that’s shakier than I’m expecting it to be as the emotions bear down hard on me.
I’m in deep.
Waytoo deep. It’s too soon to feel this way.
She lifts off of me, and I don’t have any tissues to catch the come that drips out of her and onto my jeans. She settles into her seat and pulls her panties back on, and we sit in silence for a few seconds before she clears her throat. “Are there bathrooms here?”
I shrug. “I’ve never been here before, but we can go check.”
“You’ve never been here before?” she asks, and she studies me.
I shake my head.
“Why’d you take me here?”
“I was trying to come up with somewhere deserted instead of another date in a hotel room. I didn’t want you to think all I’m good for is sex.”
She laughs. “Trust me, Asher. I don’t think that at all.”
We both get out of the car and explore for some bathrooms. She heads in when we find one, and I wait outside for her, staring at the water as I try to process what I’m feeling.
It was only supposed to be sex. A good time. I wasn’t supposed to feel so much for her, especially not when she’s my coach’s daughter.
I shouldn’t. I can’t. It’s wrong.
When I’m with her, everything is perfect. It’s right. But the second we’re apart—even if it’s for three seconds while she runs to the bathroom—I start to get in my head about it.
We blast music on the way home, both of us singing all the words to everything from Jelly Roll to Doja Cat to Justin Timberlake and beyond, and the ways we’re so similar continue to amaze me.
And having the music blaring allows me to focus on the songs rather than on the confusion swirling around my head.
As we get closer, I turn down the music. “We’re about ten minutes out. Are you sure I can’t drop you off at home?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s safe. Especially not in this bright-ass red truck.” She giggles, and I can’t help a laugh, too.
“Touché. I’ll get another car that isn’t as obvious so we can sneak around together.” What the fuck did I just say? Do Imeanthat?
The scary reality of it is that I think I do.
We wait until her ride pulls up out front, and she gives me a quick kiss before she smiles at me and gets out of my truck. “Bye,” she says, and she shuts the door and walks to the car.
I watch her the whole way, my eyes never leaving the car carrying her away from me until it rounds the corner out of my sight.
I lean my head back on the headrest as I blow out a heavy sigh.
I feel like I need to talk to someone about all this shit, but the question is…who?
I can’t talk to Lincoln since he’s too close to the big picture. But that doesn’t necessarily rule out Grayson, who’s close enough to know the major players but far enough removed to keep anything I say to him to himself.
I dial up his number right there in the parking lot before I lose my nerve.
It’s not like I can go home and call him with my dad right the fuck there all the time.
“Asheph, what’s going on?” he answers, blending my first and middle names—Asher Joseph—together into one.
“Graychael,” I say formally, mashing up Grayson Michael, and he laughs. “You find a place for Dad yet?”
