Page 47

“Tommy, I don’t think so. I’m legally blind and slightly stoned. What if I got caught?”

I move my arm, realizing that I’m making her uncomfortable, and place it around the back of her seat, instead. “Come on, Didi, live a little.” I lean in and whisper in her ear, “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to a firefly.”

Her eyes shoot to mine as she rolls her eyes and giggles.

“Didi, it’s just me and you right now. You can do whatever you want when you’re with me. You don’t have to hide yourself.”

She pauses for a moment to consider. “Okay…I guess we can try. But you can’t get mad at me if I crash your car.”

Fair enough.

By some holy miracle, she undoes her seatbelt and inches closer to me. I shift the seat back to give her lots of space and encourage her.

The second my hand touches hers, I never want to let go. Does she feel this, too? I can’t be the only one. I’m so damn nervous. She settles between my legs and leans her head back on my chest. She can probably hear my heartbeat because it’s beating so fast. I love her like this, where I can wrap my arms around her and protect her. She fits inside me like I’m a perfect glove.

I’ve never had this urge to protect someone like I do with her. The only thing ruining this moment is the fact that my father will expect me to kill her the same way he killed his high school sweetheart. And Remy seemingly wants to kill her too.

“You ready?” I murmur into her ear.

“What do I do?” she asks, and I can’t help but memorize every inch of her body. I’m hard, my erection digging into her lower back. I’ll bet she can feel that.

I place one arm on the gearshift and the other on her hip, and I try to control my erection as she leans back but her body remains tight—mainly because she has no other choice. I’ve trapped her.

She shifts again. Her body is rigid, not soft like I want it to be.

Something is super off.

“Put your hands on the steering wheel, and when I tell you to turn, you turn.”

“That’s easy,” she says.

I smile into the back of her head and move her hand to the gear shift. “Piece of cake, baby.” I softly kiss her…so soft she won’t notice, but her body goes rigid again. Shit…she noticed.

I reach around her and turn on the radio, a cassette I made last week while inspired by Didi. Bohemian Rhapsody comes on, and I reach over and turn it up.

I shift into gear and slowly press the gas, going slow and steady until she gets the hang of it.

“What is this song?” she asks me.

“It’s the new Queen song. Have you ever heard of Queen?”

“No,” she admits, turning the wheel this way and that, “but I like it.”

“I love this tune. I’ve been listening to it on repeat since it came out.”

I crank up the chorus, and she squeals with joy at the falsetto. I love how excited she gets over everything new. It’s like every experience is her first.

I take it slow on the road while she’s steering. She’s all over the place, and at one point, she almost crashes into a tree.

“Turn right,” I shout over the music, and we swing onto a different road, heading farther into the woods, and I ease off the gas, driving much slower.

I turn the song down as the rest of the track plays out. It’s me and her and the music.

“You’ve really never heard that song?” I ask her.

She shifts beneath me. “My mama doesn’t really let me listen to music, but there is one band I like.”

I swerve to avoid her nearly driving us off the road, and I slam on the brakes before we end up in the ditch. “Okay, maybe we’re done,” I say as the car comes to a complete stop. She looks up, raising her eyebrows in a way that says, “I told you so.”