Page 56 of Under Locke & Key
She hands me both tools and I start with the top one, my height an advantage here and this way Rachel doesn’t have to stand on a bucket or something. Because she totally would. Hates asking for help.
Except she did, and it got us into this, so maybe I understand why she refrains from doing so most of the time.
Knocking the first peg out takes a couple of tries but I’m able to pry it out once it’s shimmied out of its confines. Rachel gives a little excited whoop, gripping my bicep in excitement and damn if it doesn’t make me want to rush through this escape. The second and third pegs are easier once I get the hang of it.
All three pegs rest against Rachel’s palm and I look down at her for a moment before we try it. “You ready?” I ask.
She doesn’t wait to respond, merely pushes against the door and it gives. Dropping to the floor outside with a heavy thud, light streams in, almost blinding. The pegs clink to the floor as she drops them and she rushes out of the room, hopping around the door, and I follow.
“I’m sorry that happened, and that I freaked out. I’m just—” I stammer behind her, my courage leaving me as the brightness steals the intimacy of our confined space. But she doesn’t even let me finish.
Turning, surging up onto her toes, Rachel’s arms wrap around my neck. One hand gripping the back of my hair, she tugs me down to meet her and I’m lost. Hands splayed around her waist, the back of her tank top scrunched in my grip, I savor her. Our mouths are hot and wet, the little mewling sound she makes when I nip at her bottom lip only drives it higher.
Before I lose my rationality, before we do something we can’t come back from, I disengage. Just enough space between us so I can speak.
“Are we doing this? Because I need to know what you expect and what you want. This was a high stress situation and I want to make sure you feel?—”
Again, her mouth slots over mine to shut me up and it’s kind of becoming my favorite thing.
“This has nothing to do with the closet. I want you. In whatever way you’re ready for. Don’t doubt that, Bryce. I know things are confusing and up in the air between us, but please know I’ve wanted you since we first met and you’ve done me absolutely no favors in helping me get over that.” Her words are rough, whispered an inch away from the seam of my lips and the heat in me rages into an inferno.
“I’d invite you over to my place but I’m back with my parents until I find something else.” It’s supposed to be a bit of a joke, a way to clear the tension that’s near choking, but I don’t quite manage.
“You parked at my place anyway, remember? When you came to pick me up this morning it was early and we were under the misapprehension that it was a nice day out—not this heat hell.”
I walk her backward, kissing her every few feet, trying to keep control until we get out of here.
“We need to shut off the lights and equipment. We have to lock up.” The disappointment in my voice has her laughing again but it’s enough to make our pragmatic sides slip back into place for a moment.
Within five minutes we’re at the doors, padlock in hand ready to chain the place back up. Only when we step outside it’s a downpour. I can’t help the smart comment that comes out of my mouth as she steps into a puddle immediately upon exiting.
“You said you wanted something to break the heat. Here it is.” Gesturing out at the street, our little overhang barely covers us.
“I didn’t know I’d be hoping for a storm!” She shouts it above the sound of rain pelting the ground.
“We’re going to have to make a break for it.”
My hand wraps around hers, both of us jogging down the sidewalk and within a block we are completely soaked. Crossing the street feels hazardous and I can only hope that cars are following the lights because visibility is incredibly poor. Rachel’s hand in mine is a grounding force, the heat of her skin against my palm feels like so much more than I thought I’d get.
This might turn out to be a big mistake but I’m tired of playing it safe. I’m through making the smart choice, the expected choice. Rachel’s reminded me what it feels like to actually want something for myself—selfish and unashamed about it.
We make it to her blue door, the lock clicking and she kicks the bottom of the door to get it to open while it’s swollen with moisture. Then we’re trying our best not to fall on her steep stairs. I make her go ahead of me, so that if she slips I’ll be able to catch her before she can get hurt. By the time we’re through her door, our shoes kicked off and discarded beside it, we’re kissing again.
It’s hungry. It’s frustrated from the frequent stopping and starting and constantly being out of reach. She gives as good as she gets. Fingernails digging into my back through my sodden shirt, the material clinging, Rachel’s got her head thrown back as I burn a trail down the side of her neck.
“Please?” she asks and I feel the words against my lips, vibrating through her throat as I nip and suck at her skin.
“Words, Rachel.”
“I want you.” It’s a growl, and I feel bad for asking but I never want to misconstrue this. Whatever is between us, I want to make sure I understand completely before I take that step. “We’re sopping wet. I wanted to take it slow. I’ve thought about this for so long and I want to do this right.”
Her fingernails give my back a reprieve only for her to card her fingers through my hair and give the slightest tug.
“You’re driving me up the wall here.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper.
I know what she means but my mind stutters on the image of driving into her,againstthe wall, those legs wrapped around my waist like I’d imagined earlier in the day. Still, I only get one time to make the right first impression. If this goes poorly it could be over before it’s even started.
“Do you trust me?” I ask and she pulls back to stare at me with a question in her eyes.
