Page 44

Ava nods, absorbing the words. “I can’t imagine how healing that must be.”

I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling my best friend into a hug. “He makes me really happy, Av.”

“Good because I’ll kill him if he doesn’t,” Ava says, making us both laugh as she wraps her other arm around me, squeezing me tight.

“And I know all of this can feel scary. You and I both know that finding love after being with people who fucked us up feels impossible—the universe knows I’m still trying to figure it out—but you are going to do it.

” She loosens her grip around me, both of us sitting back to look at each other.

“You are going to let yourself fall for this guy because I honestly believe that he will catch you every single time.”

Emotion clogs my throat. I’ve felt so sure of myself and my decision to trust my developing feelings for Jack.

Trusting him has been so healing for me because it’s allowed me to build back trust in myself and my ability to know what’s best for me and Evee, all while putting myself together after Trevor nearly broke me beyond repair.

But Ava’s reassurance is something that makes letting myself fall for Jack, knowing I’ll survive whatever that outcome is, not seem so scary.

“Snack delivery!” Anderson's voice booms, snapping both our attention to the two men coming our way.

Anderson carries a tray of every candy you could possibly think of while balancing two sodas and a huge bucket of popcorn.

Next to him, Jack carries a tray of his own, the two sodas and a much smaller popcorn, not as precariously perched.

The sun has set now, the dark sky lit with a ten-minute countdown and the dimming high lights surrounding the open field, giving everyone time to get settled before the movie starts.

“I’ll see you after,” Ava says, giving me a wink as she hops off the truck bed, helping Anderson carry all their snacks into his trunk before the two of them get settled.

Jack carries his tray over, setting it down before turning around to push himself up onto the truck. Goosebumps cover my skin as his warm leg presses against mine, and I can’t help the shiver that takes over my body at the contrast of the cool night air and the heat of his body.

Without hesitation, Jack shrugs out of his flannel, draping it over my shoulders before wrapping his arms around me. “I had a feeling you’d get cold,” he whispers against my temple as the countdown projecting enters its last minute. “Let’s get you under one of the blankets.”

He scoots back, leaning against the pillows I set up. “Come here,” he says when I look over my shoulder and find him holding the blanket up, waiting for me.

I stand up on the truck bed, walking over to him, stopping between his legs as he taps the space between his thighs. “Sit.”

Blood rushes up to my cheeks, and I watch his eyes darken as he looks up at me, waiting for me to do as he says—the snacks now long forgotten.

I slowly sit, turning so my back is against his front, my body fitting perfectly between his legs, feeling every inch of him against me. He settles the blanket on top of us, but I no longer have the need for one, not with the heat radiating off him, warming me inside and out.

Although there’s hundreds of people parked in this open field right now, the sides of the truck and the darkness of the night make it feel like it’s just us.

There’s more privacy than I thought there would be, and I wait for the nerves to assault my stomach as the countdown reaches zero, the movie about to start, but I’m met with a wave of anticipation low in my belly, like we’re on the precipice, on the edge ready to freefall.

As the movie begins, I can barely focus on the opening line.

Something about her never giving much thought to how she would die, but all I can think about is Jack’s arms around me, the smell of his cedarwood body wash making me dizzy, the feeling of his heartbeat against my back as he holds me against him, my body pressed against his—it all might kill me.

I couldn’t tell you what happened in the first thirty minutes of the movie, too engrossed with this unfamiliar awareness on my skin—like every nerve on my skin is exposed. I keep shifting in my seat, trying to find any source of relief, but it’s useless.

Shifting once again in Jack’s lap, his arms around me tighten, and he holds me still.

His mouth comes to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “I’m going to need you to stop moving,” he whispers. His voice is strained, like his patience is wavering.

“Just getting comfortable,” I whisper, both of our eyes on the screen, a blue hue mixing with the darkness.

“You’ve been trying to get comfortable for half an hour,” he whispers back.

I shift again, and an unmistakable groan escapes Jack’s throat as my ass accidentally pushes further back into his lap, meeting the hardness of him .

“And it makes it really hard to be a gentleman when you rub that pretty little ass all over my lap.” His voice sends a literal shiver down my spine, and the air is stolen from my lungs as desire pools in my belly, his dirty words lighting a fire in me I didn’t know was there.

An apology is on the tip of my tongue, this feeling like something worth apologizing for, but Jack stops me before I can form the words.

“Don’t make me fuck the word ‘sorry’ right out of your mouth.”

I can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips, and I immediately bring a hand to my mouth. With the speakers placed all over the field, the movie is loud enough to not even hear the people in the car next to you talking, but who the hell do I think I am?

Moaning in public?

At nothing but his words ?

Jack and I have barely kissed, and here I am falling apart over him whispering dirty nothings in my ear?

It’s not that I’m against people fooling around in a truck bed at a drive-in theater, but it’s not something I do. I’ve only had sex with one person and the only orgasms I’ve ever had were from my fucking vibrator.

And I’ve only had it for a year.

Everything I’ve learned about sex is from reading romance books, for fuck’s sake.

I don’t realize I move again until Jack lets out another groan in my ear, and there’s something about the effect I’m having on him that melts away the thoughts in my brain. I move again, and this time he whispers in my ear. “Now, you’re doing it on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper back.

“Two can play at this game,” is all he says as he snakes one of his hands under the blanket, finding the hem of my dress. Slowly, he gathers the fabric in his fists, pulling my dress up just a few inches until the bottom reaches the top of my thigh.

I feel his calloused hand rest on my thigh, lightly gripping my bare skin.

“You’re so fucking soft,” he growls in my ear, his other hand finding my other thigh, and I can’t control how heavy my breathing is.

The feeling of his hands on me is intoxicating, but every time he moves his hands up, I’m left wanting more when he brings them back down.

“More,” I breathe, and I don’t even know what I’m asking for, barely understanding what’s happening to me. All I can think about is how badly I need him to touch me.

“More what, baby?”

“I want—” I stop myself, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, my newfound confidence evaporating as quickly as it formed.

“Don’t get shy on me now. Tell me what you want.”

“I don’t know how,” I admit, and I hope he doesn’t ask me what I mean because how do I explain I’ve never done this before? Trevor is the only person I’ve ever been with, and sex with him isn’t even comparable to whatever this is with Jack.

“How does this feel?” Jack asks, his hands gently kneading the skin of my inner thighs, getting devastatingly close to my center—I can already feel how wet I am, and he’s barely touched me.

“Good,” I breathe.

“And this?” he asks, moving his hands further up, gripping my hips and pulling me even closer to him, so I can feel how hard he is.

“ So good.”

His fingers tighten around the fabric of my underwear. “Is this okay?”

I nod eagerly, and I feel his lips press against my neck as he slides my underwear down my legs.

His hands find my thighs again, but this time, he uses his grip on them to open me up, my legs falling on to his, completely exposed under the blanket.

“If you want to stop, you tell me, and we stop. Got it?”

I nod.

“Words, Rumi.”

“Yes,” is all I can manage to say as his fingers inch closer and closer to where I’m aching for him to touch me.

“Atta girl,” he praises the same way he has so many times, but it hits me differently when he breathes it into my ear, holding me open as he uses a finger to part me, causing a spark to ripple through my body, and he groans. “You’re so fucking wet.”

“More,” I plead, and he lets out a sigh, but I can feel his lips curl against my neck.

“My greedy girl.” His finger parts me again, pressing two fingers to my clit with the most perfect pressure.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers against my skin before pressing his lips to my neck, finding a spot so sensitive that my eyes fall closed, my hands finding his knees and squeezing hard as the sensations overwhelm me.

His tongue swirls around the sensitive spot as he begins to move his fingers in slow circles, making me see stars behind my lids.

“Jack,” I moan, trying to stay quiet but quickly losing myself in his touch.

“I got you,” he assures me before he pushes a finger inside me.

He moves it in and out of me slowly as I get used to feeling, as if he knows I need a second to adjust before he adds a second finger, the delicious stretching sensation almost sends me over the edge.

My head is resting back against his chest, and I feel his other hand snake around my stomach and up to my chest, his big, calloused hand squeezing my breast, finding my peaked nipple through the fabric of my dress.