Page 35

A few days away from Cary had done Shane a world of good. He hadn’t even been aware of how physically tense he was in that house all the time until he finally uncurled a little on the third day at Jerry’s place, his body so unused to being relaxed that his limbs kind of felt like spaghetti.

Even the distance from Laney had been… he couldn’t say good , exactly. Not when an entire hemisphere of his brain seemed to be fanatically dedicated to thinking about her at all times . But it hadn’t been bad, either.

He felt more awkward about the situation now that he had somewhere else to stay. She was a life raft he hadn’t been expecting, and he’d fused himself to her with everything he had. Jerry had been right. He needed to de-intensify. And he needed to separate his relationship with Laney from his basic needs.

Shane wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve Jerry, but the man had given him a car, a job, and a warm place to stay. By the end of that week, he shocked the shit out of himself when he worked up the balls to ask Jerry if he could stay for more than a few days.

“I can take a pay cut, or pay rent, or work for free, or – ”

But Jerry had just beamed at him and clapped him on his uninjured shoulder. “I’m proudda you, kid. I’m bein’ honest, I thought you’d only make it one night without seeing her.”

Shane frowned. Strictly speaking, he hadn’t gone a single night without seeing her. He drove Dustin to and from school just so he could get a glimpse of her every day. And (it made him cringe a little, to think about it) he usually stayed for a few hours, parked slightly down the street out of eyeshot of the garage or front windows. He wasn’t sure why, he couldn’t see anything inside from there, but it made him feel better, even if he supposed it was technically stalking.

And that’s where he was at 4:55pm that Tuesday – parked down the road, engine running to keep himself warm, flipping through his little book of CDs to test out the new CD player he’d installed in the truck – when a pink-faced Laney appeared at the passenger-side window, opened the door, and slid in.

All thoughts he had about distance being good for him went right out the window as his heart punched a hole through his chest with the same force he’d put his fist through the glass with at the high school.

“Hi,” she breathed.

Hi, he said back silently, not sure his voice was working.

She smiled, and he was so relieved that she wasn’t angry at him - that they weren’t angry at each other, anymore - that he visibly sagged in his seat. She was looking at his cast with pursed lips.

“You need to find a better use for your fist than punching shit,” she said.

“Like what?” he scoffed. She arched an eyebrow at him suggestively, a poignant silence blanketing them like snow. He felt his entire face go beet red and – to his discomfort – his dick harden against his jeans.

“Don’t know why you’re embarrassed about it,” she said with a shrug. “I mean, everyone does it – ”

Shane clamped his good hand over her mouth. “Can you not talk about that, please?”

But they were too close. It was an enclosed space, the smell of her roaring in his head, his skin buzzing with the unexpected contact. She narrowed her eyes at him and tried to speak, but he clamped his hand harder over her mouth, his lips parting involuntarily at the feel of her.

Not yet not yet not yet his brain was chanting.

But then she opened her mouth against his palm and nipped him, and any semblance of self-control evaporated.

His mouth crashed down on hers like a wrecking ball, and he groaned with satisfaction at the moan she unleashed. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, and she arched her back against him, gripping his shoulders and shoving him sideways into his seat. She scrambled onto his lap and his hands found her hips – awkwardly, with his cast – gripping her tight and pulling her close.

Her fingers needily worked their way into his hair, tugging at it.

I miss you.

It hurts without you.

I want you.

I’m sorry.

Shut up.

More.

He wasn’t sure who was saying what as they tore into each other like he used to tear into bread.

Bread. Dustin. Jerry. His brain fought for control. Not yet – don’t do this, yet…

He snarled at the very reasonable, rational thoughts trying to permeate his mind, shoving them aside as he fumbled with the zipper of her coat, his fingers finding their way to the soft skin of her belly under her shirt, snaking around to her back and running up either side of her spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

When he reached bra-level and found nothing but bare skin, he groaned so loudly that she chuckled against his mouth.

He paused.

Not yet.

His dick was screaming at him. His blood was screaming at him.

Not yet. Not like this.

He pulled away from her mouth, just an inch.

Not in a rush, in the car, in the cold.

He let his left hand fall to the steering wheel, gripping it tight to keep it from drifting back to her body. His right he slowly withdrew from under her shirt and reached up to tuck a loose lock of blonde hair behind her ear. She leaned into his touch, cheek pressing against the rough material of the cast.

Her eyes opened and it took everything he had in him not to grab her again. Her face was a storm, a wicked glint in her eye, her lips bruised and cheeks flushed.

“You have no business looking like that,” he grumbled sucking in a breath as he tried to lean back and create some more space between them. He pushed his head into the headrest, hard, and closed his eyes. “I can’t think straight…”

“So don’t,” she murmured, her lips on his neck. “I like you better when you don’t think at all…”

“Are you calling me stupid?” he joked, the steering wheel groaning under his grip.

She nipped his ear lobe in response.

“God dammit, Laney, stop.”

“Why?” Her tongue traced the shell of his ear.

I’m going to come in my pants.

“Good,” she murmured and he didn't know if he'd said it out loud or not.

“Fucks sake, please?” he begged. His eyes popped open, and he put his hands under her armpits, hoisting her up off his lap and guiding her gently back to the passenger seat.

“I’d be offended about this if the look on your face didn’t scream ‘stopping is the worst idea I’ve ever had’,” she huffed.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his head and she smiled at the familiar gesture. They both took a big, normal gulp of air, the boiling temperature dropping a degree. Come on, Shane, let’s get it down to a ‘simmer’…

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“I can tell,” she responded wryly.

“Smartass,” he scolded.

“Dumbass.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

He choked back a laugh, and leaned back in his seat, staring at the ceiling.

“You’re staying with him, aren’t you,” she said. Not a question. Her voice low and somber. “Moving in with Jerry.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “But… I don’t want it to be like this. Like how it’s been. I want to be around, more, somehow. I want us to be, you know… friends. Spend time together.”

She arched an eyebrow again. “Friends don’t usually suck on each other’s body parts, Shane,” she said.

He suppressed a full body shudder at the thought of sucking and body parts.

“Yeah, we should probably… you know… keep the sucking to a minimum.”

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?” she asked incredulously. “I can hear your heartbeat from here! Don’t you dare tell me this is all in my head!”

“No,” he said quickly, looking her dead in the eye. “It’s not in your head.” Her anger gave way to confusion, and he decided to help clear it up. “It’s embarrassing, how much I want you, okay? Like, in a I am embarrassing myself because I literally can’t think of anything else kind of way.” He touched his sternum, the first place she’d ever kissed, and the motion wasn’t lost on her. “It’s not in your head,” he repeated.

She gaped at him, clearly not having expected him to say that.

“Fish face,” he said with a smirk.

She closed her mouth and cleared her throat.

“So is this the part where you tell me this won’t happen again?” Shane winced at the words thrown back in his face.

“We both know I’d be lying,” he said.

Her eyes opened so wide he could see the whites all the way around her irises. But then they darkened, the storm brewing again, and she reached for him –

He caught her hand in his, shaking his head. Her face fell, and he flipped her hand over and kissed her wrist gently, to soften the blow, before he dropped her arm again.

“You’re too young." She looked outright offended. “I’m not saying no,” he said gently. “I’m saying… not yet.”

She looked at him for what felt like eternity. And then slowly, she steeled herself, and nodded once.

Okay.

They sat in the car, side by side, and stared out the windshield (which to Shane’s embarrassment was a little foggy) and tried to let the tension drain out of their bodies.

Twenty minutes later, Laney stretched, and reached for the car door handle.

“I should go,” she murmured.

Don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go – “Yeah,” Shane said with a cough.

“So… We’re friends? That’s what we’re going with, for now?”

“Um… yeah. Friends.”

It sounded stupid. They both knew it sounded stupid.

“Friends can ask friends for favours, right?” she asked.

Shane eyed her warily. “Yeah, they can…”

“Come to the house tomorrow.”

Shane rubbed the back of his head again. “I don’t know, Laney. It’s… hard. For me. To be around Cary.”

“It’s no picnic for me, either,” she snapped and he winced again. “But you can’t just keep sneaking in groceries and watching from the window. You said you want to be around more. You want to spend time together. And I need to get out of the house, too, Shane. ”

Shane frowned, feeling uneasy. Cary wouldn’t so much as leave them unsupervised in the living room. He couldn’t see him being comfortable with them going out together.

“What will you tell Cary?”

“The truth,” she said. “You’re taking me Christmas tree shopping.”

“Christmas tree shopping?”

“Christmas tree shopping,” she repeated. “And I want you to come in after. I want you to help us decorate it. And I want you to stay for dinner.”

“And what makes you think Cary won’t just remove my skin with a carrot peeler?”

“Because tomorrow is my birthday, and he won’t make a scene on my birthday.”

Shane raised his eyebrows. “You were born on Christmas eve?”

“All the cool kids were doing it,” she said with a shrug, hopping out of the car. “Pick me up at 9:00. Don’t be late.” And with a smoldering look that made his cock twitch, she said “Fifteen and seventeen, Shane. We’re only two years apart, now.”

She slammed the door and disappeared into the darkness, that look she’d given him radiating through his bones.

Good thing you’ve still got one good hand…