Page 42 of Aisle Come Back to You

Putting the car in drive, I make a right turn toward my place, and though in a town like Evergreen Grove, there’s hardly any traffic, I still manage to get there in record time. Admittedly, Imayhave pushed the speed limit a little during my drive.

Then again, risking a speeding violation, or any ticket for that matter, isn’t my smartest move. I doubt my father, the sheriff, would consider my excuse of bringing a woman back to my place as valid.“Sorry Dad, but I was in a hurry to possibly get laid by my dream girl.”

After moving out of the two-bedroom house I rented with Jenny, I found a small studio apartment just above Bob’s Quick and Tasty Pizza. It may have a permanent scent of garlic and pepperoni, and my students may have made some comments about how I sometimes come in smelling like a breadstick, but it’s still managed to be the perfect transitional spot for me.

It may be small, with a tiny kitchen, bathroom, and living space that doubles as my bedroom, but it’s cheap, and that’s what matters. It feels slightly embarrassing to bring Blair back here, of all people, but as I pull into a spot behind the shop with stairs that lead up to my place, that doesn’t seem to matter, as she unbuckles her belt to get out of the car.

I follow her lead, trailing a few steps behind. There’s something about the cheetah-print skirt she’s wearing that fits snugly yet also flows so gracefully until it reaches her mid-calf, that makes me unable to resist checking her out from behind. I promise, I’m not usually this guy, but I can’t help but be captivated by the way she bewitchingly ascends the stairs, her hips swaying with each step, igniting a pulsating desire deep within as my eyes fall to her perfectly round ass.

As she glances over her shoulder, I know I’ve been caught; however, instead of calling me out, a mischievous grin spreads across her face before she strides toward the door and patiently waits for me to unlock it.

Honestly, in a town like Evergreen Grove, you don’t even need to lock your door, but it’s become a habit at this point.

Embarrassingly, I struggle to find the right key, my hands fumbling until I eventually locate it and slide it into the lock. Once I’ve quit making a fool of myself, I reach my arm forward, holding the door open and gesture for her to enter first.

“You just want to check out my ass again, huh?” she teases, seeming to stoke the already budding fire within.

A sound escapes my lips, something between a laugh and a cough, somehow adding to my already pathetic demeanor. “No. Me? Never,” I say, trying to recover. I may have been projecting confidence before, especially in our text conversations where it was easy to be more daring, but in truth, I lack experience when it comes to women.

In high school, I spent way too much time pining over Blair while she dated guy after guy until Jenny came into the picture, and then after that, she was the only woman I’d ever been with physically.

I’m not even close to being in the mood to ponder who or how many other people Blair’s been with, especially considering she’s been with a literal rockstar. Obviously, I don’t judge, and that sort of thing doesn’t bother me. She’s been free to be with whomever, but it does make me question if I could ever be enough for her.

Sure, I’ve seen her use self-deprecating humor, but in my eyes, she is the epitome of perfection, radiating pure angelic grace—even if there have been some in this town who’ve refused to see it. Regardless of the trouble she’s found herself in, or her own self-doubt, I’ll never perceive her as anything other than flawless. And hell, if she’s the devil, I’ll still gladly be her number one follower.

“Sure… she trails off, making herself comfortable as she walks further into my place, her eyes taking in every detail while her hands and fingers run across the wall as she walks.

I shut the door and lean back against it, folding my arms self-consciously as I watch in awe. “I know it’s not much, and it probably smells like pizza in here, but it’s mine and—”

She interrupts with a smile as she glances at me over her shoulder. “It’s perfect, Ford. I love it. It’s very you.”

“Really?” I skeptically ask, and this time it’s my turn to look around. Since I let Jenny keep most of our furniture, the majority of the items in here are secondhand from my parents’ place. The only things currently adorning my walls are the items Jenny had reluctantly allowed in our old spare bedroom—Star Wars posters, a framed periodic table picture, and my favorite photo captured by Blair of a tour bus, which she’d once shared on her Instagram.

Although I lack a couch, my bed dominates the living space with its red and black plaid bed sheet and comforter. Normally, I’m not too concerned about my personal space, especially since I rarely entertain guests. But with my dream woman inside, I can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious.

“Is it the most aesthetically pleasing room in the world?” she asks, a soft giggle leaving her lips as she walks toward my bed and takes a seat, kicking off her white tennis shoes, which land on the floor with a small thud. “No, but all the different pieces tell a story. It’s very Ford Hastings, and since he is still one of my favorite people in the entire world, I love it.”

Settling onto the bed, she leans back and supports herself with her hands, making herself at ease. I wish I could say the same, but unfortunately I’m completely on edge, willing myself to not screw this up. Even worse, I can’t help but notice how my eyes are immediately drawn to the small glimpse of bare skin on herstomach that can be seen just under where her dark blue band T-shirt has been tied.

“So you love me, huh?” I ask, my mouth arching into a grin, determined to bring back the confidence I’d displayed earlier.

She laughs. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but yeah, probably something along those lines.”

I keep my pace steady, arms still folded as I slowly inch toward her. “So, how come you wanted to hang out tonight? You’re not still thinking that this,” I say, unfolding my arms as I point between us, “would be a mistake?”

“I think it’s a possibility, but I’m sick of fighting it. I’m tired of pretending and acting like this isn’t real, and that there isn’t something going on between us,” she starts, giving a small shrug of her shoulder. “What about you? Are you still so sure this is a good idea?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”

I believe it too. The longing to be close to her consumes me, my body yearning for her touch, and like her, I’m so damn tired of fighting what’s obviously been in front of us for years. We were meant to be together, and it’s time we finally start acting on it.

I take another step toward her, but she holds out her foot, stopping me before she sits up from her spot on my bed. “Before anything else happens, I can’t have a repeat of the other night. If you’re going to kiss me, Ford, I need you to really kiss me and mean it. Yes, I had a margarita tonight and I can’t promise how I’ll feel tomorrow, or even a few days from now, but I know what I’m saying, and I know what I’m asking of you. So no blaming it on anything else. If we do this, it’s because we both want it. End of story.”

I nod in agreement. “End of story.”

Before she can say anything else, I swiftly close the gap, my body leaning toward hers, my arms gently framing her on the bed as our lips meet in a fervent, hungry kiss. In the past, mykisses were hesitant and more exploratory, but at this moment, all I crave is her lips on mine. She tastes like a subtle blend of peach and tequila, but it’s the sweet essence of vanilla and honey that envelops me, reminding me once again that I’m finally doing what I’ve truly wanted to do for so damn long.

The sensation of Blair’s hands on my chest amplifies the intensity of our kiss, her tongue sweeping against mine. Her desperation to be close mirrors my desire as she fists the front of my shirt, tugging me toward her with urgency.

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