What started as fun and games took a turn as the energy between them grew dense with electricity. Knowing that it was time to go in for the kill, he leaned in closer, “Fucking.”
A few seconds passed before she blinked and breathlessly stammered, “Um…ah…knocking boots.”
He smiled. “I said that.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Shit.”
“You ready to go?”
“Fine.” She sighed as she grabbed her purse.
As they walked to his truck, he wondered if she was feeling the same thing he was. Like there was a rubber band stretching between them, and it was about to snap. He opened the door and held out his hand. She took it and stepped up into his truck. She sat back, and the moonlight illuminated her like it was her personal spotlight.
“Damn,” he whispered.
“What?” She looked at him with concern.
“You’re so…,” he swallowed over the lump in his throat, “…so beautiful.”
Her lips parted, and she stared at him with a wide-eyed innocence that he’d never seen from Jess before. Not even when she was wide-eyed and innocent.
Without thinking about what the repercussions might be, he felt himself leaning forward, his lips closing in on hers like a heat-seeking missile.
He was so close he could feel their breaths intertwine when his phone went off. His work phone.
“Fuck,” he cursed beneath his breath and pulled it from his pocket and saw that he had to go in.
“Is everything okay?”
“It’s work. I have to-”
“I don’t need a ride.” Jess started to get out of his truck, but he reached out and stopped her.
“I’m taking you home.”
She started to argue, but he said, “Please, Jess.”
“Fine. But only because I lost the bet.” She sat back and put her seatbelt on.
They drove to her house in a silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. When he pulled up to her house, she had the door open before he even came to a complete stop. When she hopped out, she said, “I want a rematch,” and shut the door.
He smiled as he watched and waited for her to get into the house. He’d happily give her a rematch…or anything else she asked for.