Page 96 of First-Time Caller
He tugs on my braid by accident and something liquid hot unfurls low in my belly. My body goes limp against his, my arms draped lazily over his shoulders.
“Aiden,” I gasp and his eyes dance in the blue-green light of the dark booth. His head rocks against the chair as he watches me, tongue at the corner of his mouth in silent consideration. I feel him loop the length of my braid around his fist, and when he tugs again, it’s slower. Thoughtful.
He’s asking a question and my body is giving him the answer.
I suck in a sharp breath and roll my hips down. It’s mindless, without consideration for the boundaries we’ve set for ourselves. My body is pulled too tight and I want more of the heat that’s shimmering along my skin in waves. The space between my thighs feels achy and hot and I give in to the pull, rocking against him again. Logic and reason are problems for tomorrow’s Lucie. Right now I feel too good to worry about anything.
Aiden’s eyes close, eyelashes fanned out against the curve of his flushed cheeks.
“Lucie,” he breathes.
“Aiden,” I whisper back, circling my hips again. I love when we do this. When he says my name and then I say his. Fond exasperation and gentle amusement in every syllable. A call and response. The chorus to a song I can’t get out of my head.
Aiden moans lightly and stills me with his hands. His fingers squeeze, thumbprints at my hips.
“We should stop,” he rasps.
I keep kissing his neck. I was right, all those weeks ago. He smells the strongest here. Like coffee and laundry detergent and wintergreen gum. “Should we?”
He hums and mumbles something under his breath. “Yes?” he says, but it sounds like a question. I let myself tuck another kiss against his warm skin. The hand in my hair eases and his palm traces a meandering path down my spine. “Probably?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. If I let myself keep going, it’s only going to be harder to stop. His heart thunders a mile a minute and I know mine is racing to match. “That should probably be a onetime thing, huh?”
He huffs a laugh. “That felt like several things.”
I lean back so I’m perched in his lap, my palms resting on his shoulders. “More than a few,” I agree.
“At least fifteen years off my life.” He sighs. He rubs my back again and I let my gaze drift over him. He looks deliciously wrecked. His hair is mussed from my hands and his lips are swollen. My yanking has left the collar of his sweatshirt crooked, the jut of his collarbone visible. I’ve always thought Aiden was handsome, but he looks beautiful like this. Messy. Undone. Cracked open and torn apart.
I sigh. I wish that kiss made me like him less.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.
“Like what?”
He swallows. “Like you’re plotting something.”
“I’m not plotting anything.” I’m just trying to appreciate all of my handiwork for probably the first and last time. Aiden is right. That can’t happen again, no matter how good it was. This infatuation I have with Aiden needs to end. He’s made it very clear he can’t give me what I want, and I’m not in the habit of pushing people. I’m going to believe what he says. I’m not going to beg him to be something he’s not.
I won’t beg him to want me.
I let my palms drift over his chest, tracing the pattern of letters on his sweatshirt. “Just this once,” I say again, but I don’t think I mean it. I wait for Aiden to correct me, to suggest something different, but he doesn’t.
“Yeah,” he agrees. The palm on the small of my back reluctantly retreats from beneath my sweater. “Yeah,” he says again, teeth clamped on his bottom lip in a wince.
I laugh. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one having trouble with that. I climb off his lap and try not to notice the way he has to adjust himself, but my cheeks burn hot as I collect my things. I hear Aiden do the same on his side of the booth, and it should be awkward, probably, but it’s remarkably easy to occupy this space with him. He turns off the machines and buries a yawn in his fist, running a lazy hand through his hair when he catches me watching him.
“Come on,” he says. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
The walk to my Subaru on the other side of the parking lot has never felt quite so long or so short. The blinking red light at the top of the radio tower makes everything look ethereal this late at night, the stars a blanket above us. It’s easier to see them out here on the outskirts of the city. Maya would love it.
We stop at my car and stare at it, like it’s something that’s just dropped out of a black hole and not the thing I’ve been driving for close to a decade. I don’t want this night to end quite yet.
“Our listeners,” Aiden starts, voice rough. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and then glances back at my car. I can see our wavy, blurry reflection in the driver’s window. Our dark heads bent close together and his shoulder bumping mine. He releases a breath. “Our listeners will probably still want to hear about your dates. If you’re open to talking about them,” he says awkwardly.
It’s like the last twenty minutes never happened, and while that’s supposed to be what I wanted, something in my chest sinks. I didn’t want the reminder of the show tonight. Not after the way he just kissed me.
“Yeah,” I agree, fumbling to reconfigure my settings. I shrug, feeling approximately two inches tall. “I can share all the juicy details.”
