She said a few more things to her friends and nodded, jogging in his direction. He was only partially aware of Olive’s friends observing him like a strange new species at the zoo and giggling because Olive’s tits were bouncing around, making him hard as iron all over again in his jeans.
“Hey,” she greeted him breathlessly, cinching her tight body up against him and sighing, as if having their bodies pressed together restored her. Rory could relate, because he felt the exact same way. Olive was the embodiment of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. “Everyone is going to that pop-up carnival on the boardwalk tonight.” She dropped a sweet kiss onto his mouth. “We should go.”
Rory kissed her mouth long and hard. “You want to go, we’ll go.”
She laid her head on his chest. “I want to go everywhere with you.”
And riding back toward Long Beach with the girl he’d never dared dream about clinging to his back, for once it seemed like nothing could go wrong.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Olive inhaled deeply of buttered popcorn scent carrying on the warm summer night breeze, barely stopping herself from throwing her arms out and dancing in circles like a lovesick lunatic. Already her friends were way too curious about Rory, but the grin she couldn’t seem to wipe off her face amplified their interest tenfold. There was definitely a part of Olive that wanted to disclose every single detail of the man who’d sent her freefalling into a giant, mushy love pie. But there was a bigger part of her that wanted to maintain the secrets. Keep them all to herself, bundled to her chest like the softest pillow.
She walked along the boardwalk with Leanne and two other girls from her study group, trying not to be obvious about scanning the evening crowd for a tall man with wind-whipped dark hair and a smirk. Seriously, it had only been six hours since he’d dropped her off outside her building. Why did it feel like a millennium since he’d growled questionable things into her ear and kissed her mouth? She was a windsock in the breeze, flapping around, and she wanted to wrap herself around his solid, grounding presence.
After he’d walked her to the front door of her building, she’d floated upstairs in the elevator, knowing there was a wistful smile plastered to her face. She’d studied, made lunch, dozed off on the balcony in the sunshine dreaming of a wicked half-smile and soulful eyes. When it was time to get dressed for the carnival, she’d taken her time shaving, lotioning, straightening her hair, applying makeup. Putting on the exact right dress, a soft yellow strapless sundress that fluttered at the tops of her thighs. All the while, her stomach flip-flopped and she continually found herself staring into space, almost burning herself with the straightening iron on more than one occasion.
Obviously she hadn’t been finished staring into space because Leanne’s elbow caught her in the ribs now, sending her hurtling back to the present; a loud, crowded boardwalk.
“Damn, Olive,” Leanne laughed. “Your expression is going to get us all pregnant and I’m way too young for kids. Side note, I’ll be too young when I’m forty. Kids smell.”
“I mean, we all saw homeboy today. It’s understandable,” said one of the other girls with a playful smile. “But I don’t want to be that friend who hates you out of jealousy. Just be warned that I’m dangerously close.”
Olive pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Sorry, guys. I’ll probably be back to normal soon. Right?” When they all passed her skeptical glances, she winced. “Uh, so…what did you guys think of the lecture today—”
“Shut up,” Leanne said, giving her a withering look before nodding at something beyond her shoulder. “Rory is over there.”
A chemical change washed over her, her skin sensitizing, breath shallowing. Even her earlobes and toes started to tingle, as if preparing for a full-body awakening. And it happened as soon as she turned and saw Rory prowling toward her on the boardwalk, one hand in the front pocket of his jeans, the other pushing through his wet hair. Had he just come from the shower?
Olive’s thighs snapped together and squeezed, her sex already softening, growing damp. Her fingers twisted in the short hem of her dress, which she was regretting now. How was she supposed to hide her body’s reaction to Rory? If she turned wet upon merely seeing him, a kiss would turn the insides of her thighs moist.
“Hey,” he said gruffly, stopping in front of her.
And she’d been wrong. It didn’t even take a kiss to make her thighs slick.
When her greeting emerged as an incoherent whisper, Rory’s eyes filled with amusement. “Uh oh.” He leaned down and rolled their foreheads together. “Looks like you missed me. Maybe even half as fucking much as I missed you.”