Page 20 of Champagne Kisses
“Well, if you’ll pay for gasandsnacks, I guess it’s OK.” She smiles tentatively and then suddenly remembers something.
“Wait a minute! I still have to drop my promo kits around. If you want a ride, you’ll have to wait until like noon. Is that still cool?”
“Deal,” I say, and hide my intense relief by checking the time on my watch. “Should we meet up back at the Chatham Bars Inn?”
“Sure,” she says, hiking up her purse on her arm. She looks back over her shoulder and gives me a wide smile. “Text, if anything.”
Chapter ten
Maya
What was I thinking saying yes to a ride back to Brooklyn? I barely know this man other than that he's got great taste in glassware, and his manners go out the window when he’s stressed.
The hopeful smile he gave me when I got to the hotel lobby was enough to melt me into a horny puddle. He's just so…hot! And apparently single. And maybe…into me?
After we packed up the car, I texted a picture of Adam’s state ID to Denise and turned on Find My Friends so she knows I’m not murdered in a ditch. Or, if I am, she at least knows where the ditch is. Adam doesn’t give me serial killer vibes, though, and I’m usually a good judge of character. I should be after fifteen seasons of "Criminal Minds". He also seems pretty desperate to get away from that bridesmaid. What happened on the car ride up? I wonder if it was “Ms. Plan B” from yesterday.
Just like yesterday, I felt him watching me all through breakfast, though I pretended not to notice. I figure that means I’m entitled to a few peeks during our long ride home. This close, he’s even more handsome than I noticed yesterday, with a light five o’clock shadow on a jawline so strong it could cut glass. He's also more muscular than he seemed before; with the two of us in here, my Accent feels like a clown car.
Two hours in and he’s had his nose in his phone for most of the drive, presumably answering work emails as promised. He has yet to complain about my Spotify choices, and he paid for the gas and my requisite Coke Zero and Salsa Verde Doritos when we stopped in Cranston. Even still, it’s unnerving being so close to him in such a small space. I’m hoping we won’t have to stop again until New Haven (keeping my cool next to him is nerve wracking!), but that Coke Zero may have other plans.
As he scrolls through his phone, I notice his fingers are long and defined, like a pianist’s. His touches are light and delicate and each tap results in a flex that makes his shirtsleeves tight against his forearms. And he asked if I was single…
In the background, Bob Marley serenades about waiting invain for love and my skin actually starts to feel hot. I move to reposition my A/C vent to hit me more directly right when he reaches to turn up the volume and our hands touch. It feels like a shock of static electricity travels up my arm and I immediately yank my hand back, laughing nervously. I’m almost positive his cheeks are pinker than they were before.
“Sorry. I just really love this song,” he says softly. I check that both of his hands are safely on his side of the car before reaching out to turn the music louder.
“Really? I never would have guessed that,”but I’m glad, because it’s one of my favorite songs of all time. He puts his phone down and turns his body towards mine. I feel a bead of sweat forming in my cleavage.
“Never? Why not?”Yeah, Maya. Why not?I struggle for an explanation that doesn’t sound like an insult.
“You just seem so…um…contemporary? Like you’d see the latest bands playing in Williamsburg before you would jam out to a classic like ‘Waiting in Vain’.” He’s giving me the full wattage of his smile now, a teasing twinkle in his eye.
“Are you…calling me a hipster?” He playfully pushes my arm and I ignore the second zing of electricity between us. "How dare you!"
Pretending confidence I don’t feel, I do my best to flirt back.
“Not a hipster per se, just someone who maybe owns more than one fedora.” He laughs out loud now and again pushes my arm playfully. Any more shocks and we’re likely to have an accident.
“Ugh! You take that back.”
"No can do. I call 'em like I see 'em." Adam sits back in his seat andpretends to pout.
"So we're judging books by their covers now, are we?" I can hear the challenge in his voice and I can't help but take the bait.
"Why? What would you assume about me just from looking at me?"
Now that I've given him permission, he openly devours me with his eyes. I will my nipples not to harden under his gaze, but between the slight chill from the A/C, my form-fitting top, and the Korean heartthrob less than a foot away, I don't stand a chance. I notice Adam's eye twitch.
"Hmmm. I would guess that you like Erykah Badu, India.Arie, and maybe Maxwell."
"That's not fair!" I protest. "We've been listening to my playlist the whole time. You didn't even have to guess."
"Sounds like you're saying I got it right." He folds his arms in smug triumph.
"What about somethingnotrelated to music? What do my looks say about me?"
This time, he goes quiet and considers me in earnest.
