the top of my head, startling my wayward thoughts.
“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” she taunts. “Think I’m a slut now, don’t you?” she adds humorously, not one bit flustered by what my opinion of her may be after her little confession.
“Not in a million years, Stone. I was just thinking how, even at fifteen, you were freer than most.”
She tilts her head back and lets out such a deep, rich laugh that it twists up my insides.
The fuck is that all about?
“I’m not free, quarterback. I’ve got too many bills to prove how wrong you are. I’m chained and bound to student debt and a whole other list of expenses just to get by. I’m hardly the poster child for American freedom.”
“That’s just semantics. Your future is going to be out of this world, Stone. Money problems will be the last thing you’ll ever worry about. But having your free spirit… that’s something money can’t buy.”
She slants her grin to the side, the little hint of a blush reaching her cheeks again before she squeezes my knee to get my attention.
“For someone who doesn’t date much, you sure are a smooth talker when you want to be.”
Now it’s my turn to cackle.
“That’s Easton or Colt’s area of expertise. Trust me. I have no game whatsoever.”
“You could have fooled me,” I hear her mumble under her breath, side-eyeing me under her long, dark lashes.
I clear my throat because there is suddenly a huge-ass lump inside just from the way she’s taking stock of my every feature. I wipe my clammy hands on my jean-clad thighs, and inwardly order myself to get it together.
Be cool, Finn.
Don’t blow your wad just because a pretty girl is staring at you.
Discreetly I take a little peek at her and exhale a relieved breath when I establish her eyes are back on the road and no longer sizing me up.
“We’re almost there. Another twenty minutes or so,” I choke out, trying to fill the silence.
“Right. This mysterious place you picked out for us to get wasted and fuck. I can’t wait to see it.”
I cough into my fist, my eyes bulging out of their sockets.
“Who said anything about sex?” I blurt.
“So, you just want to do what? Talk?” she coos mockingly.
“And why the hell not?! We’re having fun doing it now, aren’t we?”
She bends her head back and starts to laugh uncontrollably.
“Oh God, pretty boy. You are way too easy to rile up. I swear if you hadn’t already told me otherwise, I’d think you were still a virgin.”
“Very funny. Haha,” I rebuke sarcastically. “Can we just quit with all the sex talk already?”
From my peripheral, I watch how she pretends to zip her lips and throw away the key.
“Thank you,” I mumble.
“Oh, don’t thank me yet. Just so you know, if we can’t talk about sex, then that means the act itself is off the table. You’ll have to find something else to entertain me with tonight.”
“There are plenty of things we can do that don’t involve sex.” I push my chin out at her reproachfully.
“So you’ve said. Apparently, we can talk,” she teases, doing bunny ears between the word.
“Don’t forget, we can also drink.” I eye the bottles on the floor at her feet.
“Oh, trust me, I didn’t forget.” She wiggles her brows in my direction.
“You know, you’re a real brat when you want to be.”
“So I’ve been told. It’s part of my charm,” she huffs out dramatically, flipping her blue-tipped, onyx hair off her shoulder.
“Hmm, and here I thought it was all the hardware and colorful tattoos that made you stand out from the crowd.”
“Are you dissing my ink now, quarterback?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. However, I am curious—is there any part of your body that hasn’t been branded yet?”
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” She winks.
Yes.
Yes, I fucking would.
However, I’m the idiot who just told her all he wanted from tonight was to talk and drink. The next few hours are going to be killer on my nerves and self-restraint, that’s for damn sure.
I look down at my junk, feeling his angry stare back at me, as he shakes his head left to right, not at all pleased with how I don’t have his back. I just cockblocked my own goddamned self, and he’s livid.
And the award for the biggest moron in all of Asheville goes to… Yep, you guessed it—Finn-fucking-Walker.
‘If you don’t get me some of that almighty hotness, we can’t be friends anymore,’ he whines, throwing a