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“Me, obviously.” I giggle, the sound bubbling out before I can stop it. He pouts, full puppy mode, and I lose it, laughing so hard I almost drop my pizza. He tries to look offended, but he’s fighting a smile.
His hand finds my knee under the blanket, fingers tracing slow, maddening shapes that say he’s not giving up anytime soon. “I bet I can make it to third base tonight, though.”
“Oh yeah?” Some part of me knows I’m playing with fire. But maybe, for once, I want to see what happens if I let it burn.
“Mhm.” His lips brush my ear, his hand sliding further up my thigh.
My breath catches—not that he needs any more proof he’s getting to me. His fingers dip under the frayed edge of my shorts, and suddenly the cool night air feels a million miles away. His touch is light, more a question than a promise, and the way he’s so damn sure of himself, but still a little shy, has my nerves buzzing.
“Third base, huh?” I manage, my voice doing that breathy thing that always gives me away. “You’re pretty confident for a guy who almost dropped his pizza.”
He grins, leaning in so close I can see every silly freckle on his nose. “Once I’m at the plate, I’m locked in.”
I bite my lip, fighting back a smile, but honestly, I couldn’t wipe it off my face if I tried. The city lights are flickering onbelow us, Seattle stretching out like a glittering blanket, and here we are—tangled up in old blankets and new feelings.
His nose brushes mine. “You’re not making this easy,” he whispers, his thumb drawing lazy circles that make it very clear he’s not giving up on third base anytime soon.
I laugh softly, but it catches in my throat because his face is right there, and all I can think about is kissing him. “I never said I’d make it easy.”
There’s a beat, a pause that hangs between us, heavy and electric, before he finally closes the distance. His lips find mine—slow at first, almost uncertain, like he’s asking a question he already knows the answer to. I kiss him back, deepening it, letting all the longing and hope and everything unsaid spill out.
He keeps one hand braced on my thigh, alternating slipping inside my shorts and stopping, his other hand cupping my cheek, and I melt into him, the taste of pizza and summer and something sweeter. The whole world shrinks down to the bed of this truck, the soft weight of his body, the way his touch is both familiar and brand new.
I pull back, just enough to look at him, and he grins, breathless, staring at me. “So… second base?”
I shake my head, pretending to sigh. “You’re really pushing it.”
He laughs, the sound rumbling through me, and for a second, I forget every reason I ever had to be scared. All that’s left is the heat between us and the city lights and the feeling that maybe this time we’ll get it right.
Until my phone buzzes again. Fork Guy.
“He has the worst timing,” Jaxon groans, head falling back against the truck.
FORK GUY
if you guys start making out
tell me so i can make an epic playlist
also, jaxon, don’t forget to mention how amazing camdyn’s curveball is
bro, this is your moment
swing for the fences!
I show Jaxon the messages. He groans but grins, shaking his head.
“Fork Guy,” he says, “the unofficial fifth wheel.”
I drop my phone on the bed of the truck and lean my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat under my ear.
“Thanks for tonight.”
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “Thanks for saying yes.”
“Something tells me you wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have,” he laughs.