Page 31 of Roadrunner

“We’ll go get some,” I said, already reaching for my keys. “We’re parked out front anyway.”

Riley made a face. “We don’t need—”

“You heard your mother. It’s not the same.” I looked at him until he understood what I was actually saying. “Come on.”

Something in his expression shifted. “You’re both right,” he said, sliding the cobbler back into the oven. He glanced at Della. “It’s really not the same without ice cream.”

We hurriedly left, without saying much to explain further.

After a few high-speed turns, I cut across two lanes of traffic and the Jeep shot into the church’s lot, catching enough air off the concrete apron to leave my stomach behind for a second.

I threw it into park while we were still rolling.

Riley braced a hand against the dash. “What are you doing?”

“Blowjob,” I blurted.

“We’re doing this in a church parking lot?” He looked around. “Off Silverbell?”

The lot was empty, though the road wasn’t. “This is probably safer than my apartment,” I said. “If I try to make it there, I’m going to combust at the first stoplight.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” I kicked my sandals into the floorboard and started on my shorts. “If you’re scared—”

“I’ve never been scared of anything in my life.” He laughed and reached for his boots. “Just checking.”

I got out of my clothes faster than I’ve ever gotten out of anything, climbed into the back, and folded the seats down. Riley slid between the seats, undressing as he came.

His body wasn’t the kind you’d see on a magazine cover. No gym-built lines, no careful diet. I’d never wanted that from him anyway. He looked like a man who worked with his hands and ate whatever he wanted and didn’t apologize for either. That was exactly the point.

I took him in my mouth, and the taste of him pulled a sound out of me I didn’t plan on making. Salt, warmth, something that was just his.

“Jesus,” he said, arching his back.

Easy wasn’t the word I would use for any of it. Least of all the idea of waiting until I turned twenty-one, which felt, in that moment, like the single stupidest rule anyone had ever invented. I kept going anyway, because it was the only way I had of telling him everything I couldn’t say out loud.

Thirty seconds in, he pulled back, both hands cradling my head.

“I can’t—”

I thought I’d done something wrong. “What? You always—”

“I want to have sex with you,” he said.

I went still. I’d been so focused on his wait until twenty-one rule that hearing it now knocked the breath out of me.

“Me?” I asked. “But, I’m not twenty-one yet.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Here?”

“Right here. Right now,” he said. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Neither can I.”

He looked around the inside of the Jeep. “What would you think about our first time being in…”