Page 34 of Tell Me Again

“Yeah, no problem.” There’s a noise like a car door shutting. “See you in a few.”

“’Kay.”

And he hangs up.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and keep walking—at least it’ll help me stay warm. It’s not more than another three or four minutes when I see a set of headlights coming toward me. Shit, he’s actually here—he actually came.

I move over a little farther onto the shoulder as the car slows, passes me, and then does a U-turn and pulls up beside me. And he’s there, looking sexy as hell with his hair all ruffled and out of place like he just got out of bed—because, fuck, he did just get out of bed—and this huge-ass sexy-as-fuck grin, and god, I’m suddenly much warmer.

I quickly open the door and climb in, groaning with relief as a rush of hot air blowing from the heater hits me.

“God, it’s fucking cold out there. Thanks, man, I really appreciate this,” I say. I put my seat belt on as he pulls back out onto the road, and then I lean forward and stick my hands right in front of the vents.

“Yeah, no problem. What’s wrong with your truck? Something simple, I hope?”

I can see as he looks at me for just a moment and then back to the road, and I realize right then how close we are. My face suddenly feels hot. God, he’s—I risk a quick glance, and there’s a sensation like fire that rips through me.

He looks at me again, his eyebrows raised. And god, his eyes are just—shit. I twist back to look forward again.

“Um, yeah, I think it’s the battery. It’s been giving me trouble for a while. But—”

“—it’s worse in the cold weather,” he cuts in.

“Yeah.”

“Ah, at least that’s an easy fix.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah. An easy fix, for sure.”

He’s right. It would be an easy fix—if I had the money for it. As it is, I was just finally able to get caught up on rent after my shift yesterday, and I certainly don’t have an extra hundred bucks sitting around for a new battery for my truck.

I lean back in the seat and close my eyes, naïvely hoping that if I’m not looking at him, maybe I can ignore the tingling feeling that’s racing through me. But I can still feel him there, so fucking close. Just inches away. And it’s... god, I think the word is alluring. Or maybe captivating.

Fucking irresistible.

I give up and turn my head sideways just a little, and I let myself gawk. I mean, not gawk, but shit, he’s good-looking. Even with his mussed hair and coat that’s not on completely straight and really, really sexy jawline with just a shadow of stubble.

He glances at me again and grins, and fuck, it’s even worse now because I just want to reach out and touch him. Somewhere. His cheek. His lips. His neck.

God, this is dangerous. I mean, he’s engaged. And probably straight. And I need to remind myself of these things. But that’s really hard when he’s fucking looking at me like that.

I smile tightly, because that’s all I can manage right now, and then I force myself to look away—ahead, down the road, where the main strip through town is coming up much too fast.

He slows down a bit as the speed limit changes and then clears his throat. “I’m, uh, not doing anything later today, I think. So, you know, if you need a ride home or whatever when your shift is over, it’s no problem. Just give me a call.”

I can feel his eyes on me for maybe half a second, and another warm tingle shoots down into my toes. It’s probably just the heat from the car—the heater is on full blast and it’s pretty warm in here, after all. Maybe.

Hell, who am I kidding? Yeah, that’s not it. God, that’s not even fucking close.

No, it’s this unreasonable, unhinged, completely unwarranted excitement at the fact that I’m getting to see him again. Even if just for a few minutes. And the fact that I might get to see him again this afternoon.

“Yeah, yeah. Um, you’re not busy?”

He’s quiet for a moment before he says, “No, I shouldn’t be.”

I glance over at him again. He’s got his eyes trained forward now, and there’s a little bit of tension in the way he’s gripping the steering wheel. Shit, I must have said something wrong.

“Is everything okay?” I feel like it should be an innocent question, but for some reason it’s really not, and when he nods quickly and forces a smile, I know he’s lying. And that doesn’t feel great. In fact, it feels pretty fucking rotten.