Page 101 of Knot a Good Idea

I don’t know how much longer I can wait, either.

Apparently,I can’t hold on long.

I keep my hand on her knee as I drive us out of Isleton and through the hour of trees and hills, all the while her scent torments me.

It’s growing sweeter by the second.

She shifts in the seat, crossing her legs and huffing.

“Are you okay?” I ask carefully, my voice gruff.

The car traps both of our scents in, my earthiness mixing with her sugary aroma.

I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white while I keep my eyes straight ahead.

“No,” she breathes. “No, I’m not.”

I immediately go into panic mode, worried something is seriously wrong.

Is she hurt?

Did I do something to upset her?

“Can I do anything to help?” I run my fingers gently over her knee while my other hand holds on to the steering wheel for dear life.

“Yes,” she breathes. “You can pull over at that rest stop.”

Is she going to be sick?

Guilt washes over me, and I’m convinced I’ve done something wrong.

You fucked up. You’re too much for her.

She doesn’t want to see you; she kissed you out of pity.

This isn’t real to her; it shouldn’t be real to you.

But I make it to the freeway exit in record time, grateful it’s one of the nicer places to stop.

It’s just us in the parking lot, and once I stop the car, she looks at me, her eyes glassy.

“What can I do?” I ask, panicked. “Do you need me to walk you to the bathroom? I can get you water from the vending machine?—”

“Liam,” she exhales, shaking her head. “Stop.”

I look at her, my stomach in knots.

Alarm bells are going off in my mind, and I’m fucking terrified shehatesme now?—

“I need you to make me come,” she pants.

Oh.

Oh.

And reality crashes down on me.

Her panting, her flushed face, and glassy eyes…

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