Page 62 of Diesel's Perseverance
“He’s just scared and not sure who to trust. I get it, but I wish he’d call me. He knows he can trust me.”
“I’ve told you this before, but I think he’s embarrassed about screwing up big time.”
“And that’s fuckin’ stupid, but I’ve told you that before as well.”
“I know. What are you doing tonight?”
“We’ve got church, a couple of pool games, and then I’m hitting the sack. I’m beat.”
“I thought you’d take a ride along the coast. It’s beautiful at night,” she said.
“I’m waiting for you.” He cleared his throat. “I better get in the shower. I smell like hell.”
She chortled, and Diesel smiled to himself. Myla’s laugh was like sunshine—so bright and warm. It wrapped around him.
“I’ll pick you up at the airport when you get here. Let Welder know if you need anything. I told him he could talk with you during the trip if needed.”
“I’ll remember that—he’ll only talk when spoken to.”
“Smartass,” he said.
“And you’re not?”
“Never.” He teased back. “You can call me at any time, you know that, right?”
“I do now. I’ll see you soon. My flight arrives in the evening. I hope it’ll be on time.”
“I’ll check the schedule before I head out. Until then, see ya.”
He placed the cell on the table near the window and gazed out at the bay again, wishing Myla was with him. He’d take her on a long bike ride, feel her arms wrapped around his waist, her tits pushing against his back. Diesel’s dick twitched, and he groaned, imagining her lips against his, tasting her sweetness with his tongue.Fuck.
He turned away from the window, pulled a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt from his small bag, and walked to the bathroom. The ache in his groin, tightening his jeans, said he’d be taking an icy cold shower. If it weren’t for Freddy, he’d have screwed Myla more times than he could count, and she would’ve been a more-than-willing lover. Still, he knew they were doing the right thing by keeping their lust in check; however, it didn’t quell the desire pulsing in his groin whenever she was near, or he thought of her.
Diesel turned on the shower and stepped under the cold water, hoping it would douse the fire in his blood.
Chapter Twelve
Myla quickly clammedup when idle pleasantries were met by grunts. To say Welder wasn’t a conversationist was a huge understatement. She leaned against her seat’s armrest and gazed out the round window at the wispy clouds streaming past and the pale blue sky beyond. Welder sat next to her, squirming and constantly glancing up and down the aisle.
“Are you okay?” she asked. His movements were making her more nervous by the minute.
He nodded.
“You seem restless. Do you want something from the flight attendant?”
He shook his head no.
It’s going to be a long flight.Slightly tilting her head backward, Myla brought the glass of white wine to her lips and knocked it back.
Welder stuck by her side like glue as they walked toward the baggage claim area. Hundreds of people packed the airport, some sporting loud Hawaiian shirts, shorts, oversized straw hats, backpacks, and fanny packs.
They sliced through the mass of travelers until they stood in front of their flight’s baggage carousel. Myla scanned the immediate area, hoping to find Diesel. She glanced down at her phone, but there weren’t any texts or missed calls from him.
“Do you see your luggage?” Welder asked.
Startled by the number of words he’d spoken, she stared at him.
He pointed at the suitcases going around the conveyor belt.
