coat?” Her voice is soft and so tempting.
I’m a fucking pussy is what I am. I should’ve given her what she wanted. What we both wanted…
Swallowing the fire in my throat, I grab the teddy bear skin off the floorboard. “Lock the doors.”
She does it and rustles around in the front a few seconds before finally getting still. It’s quiet in the car. The noise of cicadas grows louder. I can hear the chirp of frogs, and I’m pretty sure a screech owl is mixed in there. I wonder if I’ll sleep.
I’m too pent up to sleep. The shot of whiskey only fueled the fire in my veins.
Rolling onto my back, I look out the window at the stars flickering through the tree branches.
“You awake?” Her voice is soft. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t wake me if I was asleep.
Still I hesitate.
“Yeah.” I finally respond—clearly, I can’t do what’s right.
“Tell me about your little boy.”
My chest warms. I close my eyes, and I see his towhead, his blue eyes.
“I don’t have much to tell. He was only three last time I saw him.” A fact that twists my stomach. What does he think of me now? What have they told him about where I am?
“He’s five now…” Her voice is thoughtful. “You must’ve been young when you had him.”
That makes me laugh softly. “Just finishing college. He was a surprise. The one time I was reckless.”
“Too bad for me.” A grin is in her voice.
“I like to think I’ve learned from my mistakes.”
“So tell me about him.”
We’re quiet a bit, and I picture my son. His sweet little voice and happy eyes relaxes the anger in my chest. It’s what used to get me through the nights in prison, thinking about the day when I’d be out and go home to him.
“People said he looked like me.” I’m a little embarrassed to sound so proud, like one of those doting parents that buttonhole you in the supermarket. “He was already a little bruiser. He loved to play football.”
“I bet he did.” Hope’s voice is warm and full of smiles.
It draws me to her, makes me want to climb up front and kiss her again. It makes me want to hold onto her.
Damn, this girl.
“I don’t remember what I looked like as a kid. I thought he looked like Scout.”
“You look alike. Haven’t you seen pictures?” I can’t see her face, but it sounds like she’s being sincere. “I’m sure he looks just like you.”
“I don’t know what he’s going to do when I see him.” My stomach is a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. I want him to be happy, but I worry he might be angry… Or afraid of me.
“He’s going to be so happy to see his dad. You’ll see.”
Tomorrow.
God, I can’t worry about it now. We’re almost home.
Closing my eyes, I think about holding Hope in my arms, pressing my lips against hers. She’s like a warm, dry blanket on a frigid, San Francisco day. She smells like warm coconut and fresh flowers, and her body is soft against mine.
She felt so good leaning into me, wanting so much more. I can’t decide if I’m an idiot or a wise man, but I know for certain next time it won’t be so easy to hold back.
Which is why there can’t be a next time. This is a road trip, not a romance.
Hell, it’s starting to sound like a mantra.
Hope
“So ultimately being a gay porn star was a good thing?” I bite off the end of a Red Vine.
Scout’s behind the wheel, not seeming too hungover after his whiskey binge last night. JR’s still asleep in the backseat, and I’ve been stealing glances, alternately reliving the intensity of his kiss, his hands on my body… and swooning over his adoration for his son.
“I mean, yeah.” Scout nods. “I learned being an ally means more than partying with gay guys at Mardi Gras or Halloween—or not being weirded out when a guy thinks I’m hot. It’s about stepping up when it’s inconvenient or awkward.”
“Basically, being a good human.” I tuck my windblown hair behind my ear. “That’s very evolved of you.”
“Maybe.” His lips press into a frown. “There’s also the other side, where being a gay porn star is a career killer. Any porn star, for that matter.”
Propping my feet on the dash, I hold the sides of my skirt. “Yeah, but don’t you think we fetishize wealth too much in this country?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like we treat people