Page 114 of First-Time Caller
“It’s not.” Her smile spreads wider. “It’s adorable.”
“Please stop calling me adorable.”
“Cute,” she adds. I groan and collapse back to my side of the bench seat. She shuffles closer and rests her chin against my shoulder. “You’re still crushing on me.”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “Obviously.”
She looks at my face and laughs. “Don’t look so put out about it.” She tries to firm her mouth into a straight line but her lips wobble. “You’re crushing on me and my pineapple pizza,” she singsongs.
I frown at her. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Sure.”
“I’m just testing a theory.”
“Absolutely.”
“It’s probably disgusting.”
She blinks at me.
“The pizza, I mean. Not—not how I feel about you.”
I could not sound more like a dumbass if I tried. Who is this person? Why can’t I connect my brain and my mouth? I talk to people for a living, but I can’t manage to string a sentence together when I’m alone with Lucie.
I drag my hand through my hair and anchor my palm against the back of my neck, staring at her. “I feel like I should probably stop talking,” I whisper.
Lucie still has her chin against my shoulder. Her eyes are warm and her smile is soft and she has some grease from the truck on the line of her jaw that I must have missed. I’ve been thinking about Lucie in the closet, but I’ve also been thinking about her like this. Quiet. Pleased. Her eyes on me.
“Please don’t. I like it when you talk.” She bites her lip. “Do you want to know a secret?”
I nod, not trusting myself to open my stupid mouth.
“I’m still crushing on you too.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, cheeks pink. “Yeah.” She presses her face into my arm briefly and then tugs herself back to the other side of the truck. I immediately want to tuck her back into my side. “Were you confused about that?” she asks, skeptical. “After everything that happened in the broom closet?”
“You mean when you rode my thigh until you came?”
Her cheeks flush a shade darker. “About that.”
Something hot settles at the base of my spine. “You have my full attention.”
She rolls her eyes at the way my voice drops. “While you were trying to conceal your clandestine pizza, I was clumsily trying to figure out if you had plans tonight.” She licks her bottom lip. “You know. Since you won’t be at the station.”
I stretch my arm out across the back of the seat and toy with a strand of hair that’s fallen out of her messy bun. “I was going to watch TV and try to not text you.”
She looks down at her lap, trying to smother another grin. Maybe Lucie doesn’t make me stupid. Maybe she just makes me honest. Everything sits right at the surface with her, waiting to bubble over. It’s . . . good. Strange. But good.
She looks back up at me and considers. “Maybe we could—” She shifts in her seat, watching me. “Maybe we could watch TV together? Maya is at a friend’s house tonight for a sleepover and— we could eat your pizza together. If you wanted. You don’t have to try not to text me if I’m right next to you.”
I can’t stop looking at her mouth. “Yeah?”
She nods, drifting closer. “Yeah.”
“That sounds good, but can I ask a question?”
