Page 137 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

Her legs are crossed, one over the other. She’s wearing a pair of white and tan sandals. From the way her muscles flex when she bounces her leg to how her hair whirls around her from the breeze flowing through the cab, she’s hard not to admire.

The radio is on, and she rocks in time to the beat of the music, singing along to Lainey Wilson’s tune about watermelon moonshine. We hit the lone stoplight in town. My eyes widen and my lips part at the sound of her voice. She glances over at me and stops singing, her brows furrowing.

“What’s that look about?” she asks.

“I was just listening to you. I didn’t know you could sing.”

Her face warms a rosy shade of pink, and she shrugs. “It’s not something I normally do in front of people.”

“Am I not people?”

“You are…” Her voice trails off. “I guess I hadn’t realized you could hear me. Or maybe I just feel comfortable around you.”

“Comfortable is good,” I reply, my voice coming out sharp. I’ve heard something along those lines before, right before I was friend-zoned.

The light changes and I hit the turning signal before pulling into the parking lot of The End Zone.

It’s not as busy as I expected, which I guess is a good thing. It will start picking up later this week as people return to town before classes start.

When I put it in park and turn off the engine, the music goes along with it. Ava reaches her hand out and grabs my arm to stop me.

“When I said comfortable, what I meant was safe.” My chest seizes, and her voice drops low. “And Colter?”

“Hmm?”

She leans closer to me, resting her elbow on the center console between us. “By the end of the night, I’m hoping we can finish what we started in your room earlier.”

We both knew what she was saying. She was giving me the green light to kiss her, expecting I’d be a gentleman and wait until after we finished our dinner date, if that’s what I could even call this.

That doesn’t matter, though. What matters is a beautiful girl stares at me like I’ve hung the fuckin’ moon, and I won’t hold back from kissing all the oxygen right out of her.

“Maybe I don’t want to wait until later. Maybe I want you right now.”

I fold my hand along the side of her face, and she lifts her chin toward me. I smile briefly just before our lips brush.

It’s soft and slow at first, but her hold on my arm tightens. When her mouth opens and her tongue swipes along my lips, a groan echoes from deep in my chest.

I’m tempted to pull her across my seat and into my lap. She must be thinking the same thing too when she breaks the kiss and presses her forehead against mine.

“Did your roommate say they were going out to Whiskey Sinner’s tonight?”

I lean away far enough to meet her gaze and nod. “You wanna go there instead?”

She shakes her head. “I was thinking, if you want, maybe we could just grab a pizza and take it back to your place. I wouldn’t mind having a relaxing night in. Maybe we could watch a movie instead.”

“You look too beautiful right now just to go back to my place and watch a movie.”

“I don’t care if I look beautiful for everyone else. I’ll be with you, won’t I?”

My nostrils flare, and she realizes she’s got me there when she grins and pulls me in for another kiss.

We head inside and order our pizza to go, sitting at the bar for a drink while we wait. The entire time, we’re all intense stares and subtle touches. I’m realizing the past couple days have been like a long, drawn-out form of foreplay, and I’m not sure how long either of us will last.

She’s standing in my kitchen with her hair pulled out of her face, leaning over the counter while finishing the last bite of her pizza when she glances up at me, waiting until I’m watching her intently as she licks her fingers.

“I’ve been thinking…”

“Okay?”

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