Page 42 of Your Kiss Is On My List

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been on a road trip together,” I say. “Remember the last time?” As if we’d forget. We drove to New Jersey to see Lou’s latest flame play in the northeast regional finals for high school lacrosse our freshman year of high school, that year that he tried so hard to protect us from evil and we made it as hard as possible for him to do it.

“No, refresh my memory,” he says, tongue in cheek. “Was that the trip where you caught the eye of half the visiting team after the game and almost caused a brawl?” I laugh.

“In my defense, I was only trying to congratulate our guys. I did nothing to encourage that guy who made the comment I shall not repeat.” He grimaces for a beat and then relaxes.

“You never had to do anything to invite interest. You’re automatically … I don’t know… noticeable.”

“That’s the best you got? Noticeable?” I tease. He’s trying hard to behave right now and it reminds me of his attitude then, so not the page I want to be on.

“Okay, you were a knockout, are a knockout, but at least you’re more mature now—or maybe more experienced and you know how to discourage unwanted attention. Mostly.”

“Speaking from experience?” Brave thing for me to say. He snorts a laugh.

“So far, the jury’s out on that.” He pauses, watching the road in front of us—a lot of busy highway—as if it’s an unsolvable puzzle and I know he’s thinking of me. “Truth?” he glances at me and I nod. He goes on. “I can’t tell if I’m in the unwanted attention category or not—on a beyond friends level. You send mixed messages. You’re the queen of relationship whiplash.”

“I know. Mia culpa. I … In my defense, I get the same thing from you too.” He throws a longer, dismayed glance in my direction and I reflexively put a hand on the steering wheel to keep us on track. It’s something I’ve always done when driving with him.

Because I invariably take his attention away from the road and I’m always driving shotgun and I’ve always kept us going in the right direction before he’s veered off course. It’s my job in driving and maybe it should be my job in our relationship too. And it’s about time I step up now.

“Sorry, I should be clearer,” he says. “Sometimes—most of the time it’s crystal obvious and I know exactly what I want—”

“Which is?” My heart bubbles and I almost hiccup with anticipation. He smiles, but keeps his eyes on the road.

“That I want everything you have to offer, more than kid sister-best buddies.” He turns his head to face me. “I want you mind, body and soul, with emphasis on the body, all to myself. I want to kiss you until you go weak in the knees and then I—” My hand goes to the wheel as my heart beats out of my chest, my tummy flipping around in wild agreement.

“I get the picture.” My voice is too breathy and I swallow, take a deep breath and gather myself as his very serious expression returns to the road and he hangs onto the steering wheel as if he’s driving a tank.

“Confession? I want the same—most of the time.”

“But?” He glances at me and I see empathy in his intense eyes.

“I’m scared. What if I don’t measure up? What if I’m not—”

“That’s the last thing you need to worry about. You may be inexperienced—”

“Your polite way of referencing my virginity.” I don’t bother keeping the self-disgust from my voice. “I know I shouldn’t be worried about it or feel funny about it because everyone has a first time and everyone chooses their first time and there’s nothing wrong with being very choosey.” I heave a breath. “And I choose you.”

He whips his head around and I grab the wheel again.

“Maybe we should pull over,” I say.

“Or maybe we should hold this conversation later,” he says, his voice gravely. I dart a look, because so help me I feel the sensual need vibrating from him and speaking to me. His crotch bulges with an enormous mouthwatering boner making me wish I had x-ray eyes right now. Shit. Fucking shit.

“Keep your eyes where they belong, doll, or I will pull over to the side of the road and it won’t be to talk.” He says this without looking at me, at least not directly. I laugh because I’m not one to get embarrassed, but double fuck.

“You have exceptional peripheral vision, don’t you?” He smiles and I know better than to test this conversation further because I doubt his threat was an empty one and as exciting as it sounds, especially to my throbbing center, I haven’t held out this long to end up having sex for the first time in a car on the side of a highway. Yikes. The visual alone is making me squirm.

“Let me tell you a few things about dad before we get there.”

“I remember him. He was a hockey fan. He and my dad got along well—for the two years he was in the neighborhood.” He pauses and furrows his brow, but I know he has more to say. “He left a year before my hockey accident, right?”

“Yes.” My voice is quiet and my heart pounding for a whole other reason now. That was a tough time for me. I managed with the help of the Eagletons, especially Lou and Trey. They were a welcome relief of the stress at home because mom was so, so angry. And I was lonely in my house, wishing dad didn’t go, not quite understanding why, though mom certainly had a few ideas all having to do with some young bimbo. At the time, it didn’t make sense to me what she was talking about because I was only eight years old, but I had a clue which grew into complete understanding as I matured.

“I remember you spent a lot of time at our house. With Lou.”

“And with you. And your mom and all her cookies and cupcakes. It’s a wonder I didn’t end up fat.”

“You had too much energy to let a few extra calories bother you.” I snort.