Page 34 of Roman and Jules
Jules was grinning broadly now and she shrugged him back, still not trusting herself enough to peel her fingers from the handlebars. And since she couldn’t move, he took full advantage and playfully kissed her cheek, and then her neck, inhaling the floral scent of her. She let out a squeal and he readjusted his hold under her rib cage.
“No funny business,” she warned, “or we’re going off-roading, and not on purpose.”
He tried to behave as they came to where the desert opened up into a dry bed off the road. The Eldorado Dry Lake Bed had once been covered in water—who knew how long ago—though the tan, sun-scorched ground was patched and shriveled like it had been yesterday. They’d come just in time. Bonfires peppered the twenty-square-mile area under the fading light where the crowds from Vegas shared the same idea of leaving the bustle of the city—mostly teenagers. Their laughter reached them from the sand-covered road.
Jules slowed and turned to him when she brought his bike to a stop. “Time for you to drive, tough stuff.”
He took over while she scooted behind him, readjusting her long legs behind him. As soon as they were going, she pressed mischievously against his back and brushed his ear with her fingertips.
“What was that for?” he shouted through the wind.
She laughed. “Just getting you back, Roman!” And then she brushed a kiss against his face like he’d done to her. His cheek creased into a smile. Jules could get him back all she liked. She kept her touch light, probably for fear of crashing them as they explored the area. He settled on the most secluded spot he could find, parking near some shrubbery. Jules eased off of the bike and he came after her, catching her by the waist before she could get too far.
He held her there, searching her eyes. He wanted to start this evening out right. “You’re not cold, are you?”
She shook her head. “I brought blankets.”
“Good.” He was drawn to her lips, and he smiled and just went in for the kiss. She immediately responded to it. They’d been holding back for far too long, but this night was more than finding ways to touch her. He wanted to convince her to stay, and so he drew back and brushed her chin with his fingers. “Let’s get this fire started.”
He took out the firewood while she gathered brush. The last time he’d done a campfire had been at college. Roman rearranged the wood into a log cabin, tucking the tinder underneath it. He took out a lighter and caught the brush on fire. That had no problem spreading, but the logs were a different story. They stubbornly repelled the flames.
His eyes alighted on a cardboard box that the wind blew their direction, and, ignoring everything he’d learned in scouts (or maybe because of scouts), he threw it upside-down over the top of their fire. The fire consumed it in seconds and raged into an inferno that threatened to take out anything close.
Jules shrieked and jumped back. “What happened to a little patience?”
He didn’t have it. Probably why he was constantly in trouble, and he chuckled, waiting for the flames to go down. As soon as it ate away the box, the fire settled back onto the logs, this time spreading happily over them. The charred remains were red-hot beneath the logs.
“See, it worked,” he said.
“Well, we didn’t die. I feel like that’s our motto lately.” She took out a hoodie from the back and shuffled her arms into it. “So, what was your aunty saying about a party?”
She’d heard that? He shrugged, hoping he didn’t freak her out by talking about it. “She wanted to invite the whole family for a get-together to, uh, celebrate our marriage.”
“Oh.” She sobered and dragged the picnic basket from the back of his bike and set it in front of the fire like she was trying to distract him. “I’ve got s’mores in here,” she said. “It’s not exactly the fine cuisine you make, but it should fatten us up all the same.” She winked at him and went for the blankets next.
He joined her this time. “Would you mind if we held a party?” he asked her. “We could put it on sometime after your gig in the beginning of November?”
“But…?”
There was the little matter of her thinking that nothing between them was real. Even though his tongue felt wrapped up in his throat at the outcome of this night, he enjoyed playing with her like this. “But what?” he asked.
“This!” She pointed to herself and then at Roman—the ends of the sleeves from her hoodie hanging over her hands. “We’re only a thing because of Ty.”
The thought of those two together filled him with disgust. The brightness of her eyes, her ready jokes and her smile, her boundless energy—he never wanted that snuffed out. He steadied himself; he might as well get this over with. “Do you love him?”
“No?”
Why did that sound like a question? He bit back a grin, but he couldn’t celebrate yet. He set the blanket back down on the back of his bike. “Do you want him back?” Roman had to cover all his bases.
“No, but you said…”
He caught at her fingers—they were irresistible when her sleeves swallowed her hands like that. “I didn’t know you then, okay?” He dropped her hand and took her blanket and tucked it around her shoulders and then he brought her closer with the ends of it. “I can’t help but think, Jules… that we belong with each other.”
She turned breathless. “I think… so too.”
“You think?” he teased. His heart felt like he’d gone cliff diving, and after her words, it floated somewhere above his head. He was ready to celebrate, and he kissed her again.
She emerged, smiling. “Wait, wait, this isn’t fake? None of this is fake?”
