Page 28 of Escaping Our Reality

Ignoring her comment, because how can I rebut it when I agree with it, I stand up and stretch, pulling my arms high above my head. My stomach must show because I catch her staring at my mid-section. Her heated gaze makes my dick pole vault in my pants.

Suddenly, I’m suffocating.

“Thirsty?”

She nods, following me to my truck with the blanket wrapped around her like a cape. Leaning in the back, I open the drink cooler and grab a bottle of water for her and a bottle of beer for me. Slamming the door, we lean against it. She downs half of her bottle in one fell swoop.

I’m an asshole. I should’ve offered her something to drink before now.

Taking a pull of my beer, I let the cool liquid coat my throat. Twisting the brown bottle back and forth in my hand makes me remember something. “When you dumped your beer, you said you weren’t a fan of lowered inhibitions. What does that mean? Did something happen?”

“I’ve only drank one time. Last year, it was a Cinco de Mayo party, and I thought I would try the margaritas. I didn’t really like the taste, but I liked the way it made my brain feel fuzzy. I didn’t think so much. On the flip side, not thinking has its disadvantages. I did something I shouldn’t have with someone I shouldn’t have.”

A vise clamps around my heart, squeezing it in a death grip. “You had sex with someone?” The Grim Reaper slices his scythe through my chest. Why does the thought of Lulu having sex with someone drive me insanely mad? The idea alone makes me feel unhinged.

“No, of course not. But I did kiss someone.”

“Who?”

She nods her head in the direction of her chair. In the direction of the phone nestled in her backpack.

“That Hudson guy?” I ask.

She nods, taking another drink of her water.

My voice is scratchy. I sound like I ate a damn cactus. “Well, it’s just kissing.” Is this how she feels about me kissing Carrie? Does it hurt like this?

“It wasn’t just any kiss. It was my first kiss. And now it’s tainted. Forever.”

I watch her fingers tear at the label on her bottle. If I thought I ate a damn cactus before, I’m not sure what the hell I just ate now. Glass? I have to clear my throat before words will even come out. “Well, just pretend your second kiss was your first kiss.”

“I will. When it happens.”

Fuck. Me.

I reach over and put my beer bottle in the bed of my truck, and slowly spin around, placing my body right in front of Lulu’s. She bumps back against the closed truck door. Taking the water bottle from her hand, I lean over, setting it down next to mine. I’m so close, my chest brushes against her large breasts.

I don’t pull back. I’m not giving her space. I can’t. I need to beinher space.

I push the blanket from her shoulders.

I need to do something with my hands. If I don’t control them, they will be everywhere. On her. In her.

I’m an asshole. But I’m notthatkind of asshole.

I lift my arms and grip the roof of my truck so tightly I think I break my knuckles. And the whole time, her eyes never leave mine.

I love it that she doesn’t shy away. Ever.

I hate it that she doesn’t shy away. Ever.

When her trembling hands travel up and glide underneath my shirt, stroking the sides of my waist and ribcage, I nearly lose my shit.

Her whisper becomes the end of my life as I know it. “Ry.”

Bending my head, I crash my lips to hers. Our kiss doesn’t start softly. It doesn’t start gently. Immediately, I part her lips with my tongue, thrusting into her mouth, exploring her, tasting her.

I’ve never had a kiss like this before. She matches me, stroke for stroke. Giving, taking. Making me new. Making me feel like I’m a better man. She pulls my body against hers, rubbing against me, moaning into the kiss.

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