Page 67 of Chasing Forever
I’ll be right down.
I hurry and change into my shorts and Plain Daisy Ranch T-shirt, then open my door and jog down the stairs.
“You ready?” Romy asks me.
“Sorry, I have a ride.” I open the front door.
“Cool, I’ll just go with you and Brooks.” She follows me out onto the porch, and I whirl around.
“Um…”
She steps back and tilts her head at me. “Don’t want me to go with you?”
I glance over my shoulder at Brooks’s truck. He’s waiting, and all I want is my lips on his. The grown-up thing to do would be to give my sister a ride.
“Are we leaving now?” Poppy comes down dressed in her sweatpants and matching Plain Daisy Ranch T-shirt. Her blonde hair is braided to the side. “Is Brooks driving us?”
Romy continues to study me. “I think Brooks is only driving one of us.”
Poppy’s eyes widen. “Shut up.”
“Looks like Brooks has finally won.” Romy grins.
“Oh my god, it’s new. Don’t go labeling it as anything just yet.” I take one of the steps down. “I’ll see you guys there.”
“Didn’t the label thing become pointless when you married him in Vegas?” Romy hollers at me, but I don’t bother responding.
Brooks’s door opens, but I rush to the passenger door and spring it open before he has a chance to get out. “Stay. I’m good.”
He’s wearing his usual baseball pants with his matching shirt and belt. I used to make fun of him for always dressing like a baseball player when it’s only recreational softball. Now, I like it. It shows commitment, and it says more about Brooks as a person than his fashion sense.
“Do they need a ride?” he asks because Romy and Poppy are still on the porch, watching.
“No. It’s just us.”
He leans forward to kiss me, but I put my hand in front of his face, not wanting the audience. “We don’t want to be late.”
He draws back and looks at the porch again where my sister and cousin are still gawking at us. “Okay.”
To my relief, he doesn’t seem bothered by me putting him off.
We drive over to the softball field and find that we’re the first ones to arrive, so I unbuckle my seat belt and climb into his lap, shifting one knee at a time until I’m straddling him in the driver’s seat. His breath catches, but his hands lock on my hips.
“How about that kiss now?” I murmur, mouth inches from his.
He groans, low and guttural. “Fuck yes.”
I press my lips to his, kissing him hard, and his mouth meets mine with a desperation I’m starting to crave. Our tongues slide together, and he groans into my mouth. His hands roam under my shirt, fingers skimming the skin at my waist before dragging upward. I grind against him, slow and deliberate.
“Jesus, Lottie,” he mutters, breaking the kiss, trailing his mouth down my neck. “You’re killing me.”
“Good,” I whisper, pressing kisses along his neck, nipping just enough that he jerks under me.
He pulls me tighter against him, and his bulge tells me how badly he wants me. One of his hands slides to my ass, the other up my spine, anchoring me to him while his mouth devours mine again. My fingers tangle in his hair. His hips lift, grinding against my core as though he can’t stand even an inch of space between us.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathes against my lips, but his hands still locking me to him.
I shake my head, dizzy with how badly I want him. “Never.”
