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“Ready?” I ask, handing her a cup of coffee. A zing of electricity passes between us as our fingers lightly brush against each other.

I take the box from her and lead us to my car parked on the side of the road in the back alley behind the Den.

I open the driver’s side door and drop the donuts on the floor in the small space under my seat, but I freeze when my attention is suddenly drawn to Amelia entering my car.

She’s wearing a knee-length skirt that rides up as she lifts her leg to climb in, exposing her thigh. She drops her coffee cup into my cup holder and rubs the palm of her hand against the fabric of the passenger seat as she looks around.

All the blood in my brain rushes to my cock.

I can’t remember if Amelia’s ever been inside my truck before. But I know I like it. The slow motion of her hand combined with her bare thigh on my upholstery make me think of very dirty things.

Hiding behind the car, I maneuver my cock into a more comfortable position before getting into the car.

“Let’s go,” I say, my voice low from trying too hard to keep my cool.

We’re quiet as I drive out of town. It makes me hyperaware of her. I listen to her soft breath and the nervous tapping of her foot. Every movement she makes causes my cock to twinge with the need to be touched.

I park in front of Bryce and Brody’s house. “I’ll be right back.”

I open the back gate to let Rusty out. I tousle his head a couple of times, getting my face licked as a reward, and lead him to the car.

He eagerly jumps into the back, immediately going to Amelia and sniffing.

“Hey boy,” she says with a huge grin on her face. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

She pets his neck with one hand while the other scratches behind his ear.

“I try to take him out at least once during Bryce’s shifts so he doesn’t go too stir-crazy,” I explain as I get back into the driver’s seat.

“That’s so nice.” She follows that up with a chorus of “Who’s a good boy?” that has me laughing out loud.

“I love dogs,” she says, apologetically.

“I know.”

“You can tell, huh?”

“And you’ve mentioned it a couple of times. You were sad that Ethan wouldn’t let Chase get a dog for his fifth birthday.”

She drops her face into Rusty’s neck.

“That’s right.”

She goes quiet again, her enthusiasm gone.

I sigh. “Do we need to talk?”

“About what?” Her voice is muffled by Rusty’s neck.

Us.

But it would be presumptuous at this point to even use that word.

“I had a great time the other night.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to smack myself.

“Sorry, great is not the right word, it makes it sound like I’m talking about dinner last night—which was also great—I mean… what I meant to say was that Sunday was… better than great. And I can’t stop thinking about it… about you.”