Page 42 of Back for Seconds

Joey smirked. “Are you asking me out?”

“I’m asking you to not be mad at me. Because for some reason that’s literally all I care about right now.”

“Well.” He scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the sidewalk. “I’m pretty great, aren’t I?”

I pressed my lips together into a pert little grimace. “All evidence points to yes.”

Joey raised his brows at me. “And you need lights for your tree.”

“Yeah, actually. I do.”

“And I haven’t eaten dinner.”

“Me either.” That was probably why I felt like I was wading through a thick, murky tidal pool.

He held one of his comically large hands out to me. “Then let’s get out of here before you get yourself in trouble again.”

Chapter 14 June

The entire walk from the rec center to Joey’s car, we held hands.

It was all I could think about. Do I stay like this? Should I pull away now? Ok, we’re coming to a corner…would I normally pull my hand away or would I leave it? If I was holding hands with my brother or a priest or Elton John, what would I do?

It was hard to keep up conversation when I was being mauled alive by my own thoughts. When we were within line of sight of his car, Joey dropped my hand and began digging in his pocket for his keys.

“So, we’ll hit the hardware store and then we’ll grab dinner?”

“And if it’s not too late, we’ll see a movie?” I wriggled my eyebrows at him.

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

I dismissed him with a wave. “It’s December, we’re not getting anything important done or approved by clients this late in the year. Plus, the week before Christmas is when everyone starts showing up to scrums hungover.”

Joey wrinkled his nose at me. “The fuck is a scrum?”

We climbed into his car. It smelled just like his cabin—like his hoodie and the warm, fuzzy blanket I wrapped myself in last night. Spicy like a wood fire dying out, masculine like aftershave, and clean like fresh sap from a pine tree. Settled into his seat, he took a moment to pull his curls back into a neat bun at the nape of his neck. The edges of his hairline were tidy and perfectly squared up, maybe even freshly trimmed. I longed to reach across the space between us and bury my fingers in his hair, to feel his ringlets slip between my fingers, then pulse back into their shape.

“Why do you keep your hair long?” I asked, then quickly added: “I like it a lot—I’m just curious.”

“I don’t know.” Joey shrugged a big shoulder. “I think I like taking care of it. You know how some guys get really into their beards? Or like motorcycles?” He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, his gaze flitting from my eyes to my mouth. “I like what I like.”

This instantly brought back the burning, surging memories of last night. His hands working steadily at my thighs, his mouth on the base of my neck, his erection pressed against the inside of my thigh. Of pleasure building deep in my abdomen as his grip on my thighs encouraged me.

I crossed my legs and arms and ripped my eyes away.

Cool it, June.

“God forbid men have hobbies,” I joked, my voice only betraying me slightly with a little warble on hobbies.

Tonight was not the time; a parked hybrid vehicle was not the place. And hadn’t the last twenty-four hours been messy enough? At least my little joke made Joey laugh.

“Time for an eggplant parm sandwich the size of my face,” Joey said eventually, filling the silence between us—casually, like I wasn’t imagining him dragging his tongue down between my breasts and burying his face between my thighs.

***

I didn’t know exactly where one could find a satisfying and also vegan dinner close enough that we wouldn’t end up gnawing off each other’s limbs, so I let Joey pick our destination after assuring him I could and would eat almost anything.

We took the long way out of town, down to the older, shorter bridge that cut across the bay, connecting the very bottom of the island with a marshy, rural stretch of mainland. In a matter of five minutes, the houses went from tightly packed to nonexistent. That was what I loved most about New Jersey; it was like the whole world and all its strangeness was packed together, connected by a series of strip malls.