Page 9 of Before I Should Leave
The car was barely crawling now.
Just inching along like it knew what it was doing.
Outside, the storm was still showing out with sheets of rain sliding down the windows like they had somewhere to be.
The city blurred behind water.
And somewhere under all that weather and traffic… the music kept playing.
It was Tank this time.
Low.
Sultry.
That older joint with the piano keys tapping softly and the bassline smooth like sweat down a spine.
I didn’t realize how quiet it had gotten until Diesel shifted in his seat again, just enough to turn toward me.
One arm still loose on the wheel.
The other resting on the back of my seat like it had always been there.
He licked his lips quickly, but my eyes caught it.
His eyes locked with mine.
All dark and deliberate.
The kind of look that asked without asking.
That said, this wasn’t a joke, but I’m giving you time to change your mind.
And I didn’t.
I didn’t say a word or pull back.
I didn’t deflect with a joke or look at my phone.
I just stared at him, breathing slowly, feeling something in my chest flutter wild and wide open.
Then he leaned in slowly. Closer.
The moment before was louder than the kiss itself, with heartbeats, silence, and the soft hum of the rain.
His lips touched mine, soft but certain.
Full.
Warm.
Gentle but deep enough to feel it in my knees, even sitting down.
My mouth opened without thinking, without guarding, without calculation.
His tongue brushed mine, slow and unhurried, tasting like tequila and patience.
My fingers curled into the seat between us like I needed to hold onto something.
It wasn’t rushed or messy.
It was everything I forgot a kiss could be.
And I didn’t want to pull away.
But life? Life’s got timing like a bitter ex.
HOOONK!!!
The car behind us laid into the horn like they saw our whole moment and didn’t give a damn.
I gasped, pulling back slightly.
My lips tingled, still parted.
My eyes flicked toward the rearview, then back to Diesel.
He just looked at me for a second.
Eyes low, mouth still soft like he hadn’t even moved.
Like he could kiss me again if I said so, but I didn’t say a word.
I knew if I opened my mouth, I might’ve said something I couldn’t take back.
So we just turned forward again and let the traffic carry us the last stretch to the terminal like nothing happened but everything had.
The airport finally came into view. Bright lights. People in raincoats running across crosswalks. Flight boards blinking inside through the glass. Diesel eased into the drop-off lane but didn’t speak or ask me if I wanted to talk about it. And I didn’t offer anything either. I reached in the back for my Birkin and my iPad.
He was already out of the car with my luggage by the time I opened my door, the rain slicking his shoulders.
“Lemme help you,”
he said quietly. I didn’t protest. I just slipped my hand into his and climbed out of his truck.
I opened my mouth to say something. Anything. But nothing came. So I gave a tight-lipped nod and turned toward the sliding glass doors. And then—because the universe clearly had jokes—my phone buzzed.
Delta Airlines: Your flight has been canceled due to weather delays. Please visit the ticketing counter for rebooking options.
I froze mid-step, staring at the screen. Then, in the middle of the airport curb, under the loud-ass sky and even louder feelings, I shouted, “FUCK!!!”