Page 39 of Handy

“Not sure how to turn that into a date, but I’ll give it some thought.”

We go back and forth, laughing as we come up with more ridiculous date ideas we’ll never actually do. By the time we reach the ground again, I’m pretty confident that even if we don’t go to the pet store to hold tarantulas for our sixth date, I can probably get him to at least take me out to dinner and a movie. It’s a little disappointing when he pries himself off of me so we can climb out. He breathes easier once his feet are back on solid ground, and immediately reaches for my hand again.

“Go-karts?” he says.

“Loser buys corn dogs?”

Amusement sparks in his eyes and he nods. “You’re on.”

Chapter 15

GRIFF

It’s dark by thetime we leave the fairgrounds. Ledger beat me at go-karts twice, we stuffed ourselves with every type of food you could possibly think of deep frying, and then I watched him light up petting every farm animal available for petting. All in all, it was a damn good first date… if I could actually work up the balls to come right out and call it that.

He doesn’t seem put off by my lack of courage though. He’s all soft smiles and laughter, the two of us holding hands as we leave the lights of the fair behind us and venture into the open field that’s being used as a makeshift parking lot. It’s cleared a lot since we parked earlier, leaving us with plenty of space to walk without having to weave between cars. I can see my truck parked in the distance without any other cars nearby.

We take our time, neither of us in any kind of rush for this to end. Not that it has to end here. What if this is just the first time we spend an afternoon at the fair together instead of the last? What if we really do get to ten dates? Twenty dates? What if…?

Fear and excitement war in my gut and I tighten my grip on Ledger’s hand. Can he feel the tremble in my fingers? Does he notice the slick sweat forming on my palm? I’m sure he can’t hear how hard my heart is pounding, but it’s thundering in my ears now, drowning out the grounding sound of his voice.

Thinking this was temporary was a hell of a lot less terrifying than the possibility that it might not be. If I let myself believe this could be real, that it’s something that could last… Well, I know better than anyone that people can be taken away unexpectedly.

Anxiety claws at my throat, and by the time we reach the truck I’m fighting the urge to pull Ledger into my arms and hold him there where it’s safe and nothing can take him away from me, to growl at the world and anyone who even tries.

“Everything okay?” he asks, angling himself towards me on the bench seat as soon as we’re inside the truck and reaching over to put his hand on my thigh.

The weight of his touch is the only real thing in a fog of anxiety.

My heart breaks into a gallop and my tongue feels even clumsier than usual. It doesn’t matter, I wouldn’t know how to answer that even if I thought my mouth would let me form the words. How am I supposed to tell a man I don’t even have the courage to call my date that I’m on the verge of a panic attack at the thought of losing him one day? He’ll think I’m a lunatic.

I grunt in answer to his question and reach for him. If his hand on my thigh is a tether to sanity and clearer thinking, then more touch can only be better. Right? I need to feel him to know he’s okay, that he’s herenoweven if there’s no way to know what will happen later. I need to remind myself that none of the fears spiraling inside my head are real, they’re just ghosts of the heartbreak I don’t think I could live through twice.

But touching him can exorcise them. If I can just remind myself of whatisreal, here and now with Ledger, then I can send these fears back to hell where they came from.

Ledger doesn’t even seem surprised when I launch myself across the seat towards him, like he could see me coming undone at the seams and already knew what I would need to sew me back together. He makes a soothing noise that vibrates against my lips as our mouths collide. He still tastes like powdered sugar and all the sweetness of the fried food we’ve spent the afternoon eating. An electric feeling sears through me and the softness of his mouth grounds me just a little more.

I gasp and kiss him deeper, desperate to find a way to devour him, to lose myself completely in him and leave everything else behind. The past doesn’t have to be anything but a bad dream and the future isn’t real yet, but this moment is. Right here, in my truck, with Ledger’s quiet, muffled sighs filling my mouth. This is real.

His tongue slides against mine, but even that isn’t enough to satisfy my need to feel him. I rumble my frustration against his lips and press closer to him, sliding my hands under his shirt and crawling across the seat until I have him underneath me. There’s not nearly enough space in here for this kind of thing, but that doesn’t register in the depths of my desperate brain. I’m nothing but base need to feel, to taste, to find a way to get closer no matter how impossible it seems.

Even if he has no way of knowing the reason for my sudden desperation to have him under me, against me, filling all of my senses with proof and reassurance of his existence and safety, Ledger matches my energy enthusiastically. He pants my name every time our lips part, arching into my touch, squirming underneath me like he needs to feel my weight pinning him down just as badly as I need it.

He tangles his fingers in my hair and nips at my lips, whimpering around our tongues every time they meet again in a hot, slippery duel. The stiff shape of his cock drags against my belly and the air inside the truck starts to feel heavy and thick with the lingering heat of the day and our harsh breaths.

My cock aches. I grind against him, my erection pressed to the inside of his thigh, too many clothes between us for any kind of relief. He slips one hand under my shirt, pawing at my stomach and chest, his touch feeling like ice on a burn. I need more.

I whine against his lips and rut into his thigh again.

“I’m sorry,” I pant, breaking away from his mouth to kiss and nip along the edge of his jaw, savoring the salty hint of sweat on his skin and the lingering warmth from the sunshine. “I think I lost my entire fucking mind for a minute.”

He tilts his head to one side, inviting me to drag my tongue down the column of his throat as he rocks his hips.

“I’m not complaining,” he murmurs, digging his fingers into my shoulder blades. “I’m happy to ride out ten or fifteen minutes of insanity with you.”

I groan and bury my face in the crook of his throat, fucking against his thigh again. The fabric of my briefs feels too rough on my overheated, oversensitive cock, but I can’t stop, not when I have him underneath me, panting in my ear, just as achingly hot and hard as I am.

“I need to be inside you so fucking bad, Ledge,” I grunt, laving my tongue over the fluttering pulse point in his throat. “But I don’t—”

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