She shrugs and tosses her bottle into recycling. “At some concert venue.”
A new feeling comes over me, something achy, that makes me feel like I might miss her when she’s gone. “I can give you a ride when you’re ready to leave.”
I’m expecting Maggie to decline my offer, but then she turns to me like she’s really considering it and then nods. “Yeah, okay. I need to shower first. Will you be ready to go in an hour?”
“How about you come back down here in forty-five so I can feed you before we leave?”
She grins. “Deal.”
TAKE IV
REMINDER
“Every day is the start of something beautiful.” — Matt Nathanson, All We Are
21
Show Time
Maggie
Desmond is waiting for me at the curb after our quick dinner. The engine is already running and ready for our getaway. Why he’s always so insistent to drive me everywhere is not something I’m going to question anymore, but one thing is as troubling as it is certain—I like it more than I should.
In the back of my mind, I know that the niceties are just that—gestures meant to appease his best friend and my sister more than they are favors to me. I understand that and accept it, but that doesn’t change who Desmond is to me. The cocky chef with an ego the size of the state he was born in. Yes, things are truly bigger in Texas.
It’s all too complicated. It’s also something I’m not ready to untangle.
I approach the passenger door with a fluttering heart and no clue what to do with it. I’m wearing a faded jean jacket over a White Water tank top, black jeans, and white high-top sneakers. It’s going to be a chilly night, so it’s the sexiest I can look while I promote the vodka brand.
As soon as I slip into my seat, I feel right at home. I inhale the old leather like it’s oxygen before I notice Desmond watching me from his seat. I face his curious gaze with a bashful smile. “What?” I’m immediately on the defensive, knowing he just caught me inhaling his ride. Can he blame me? It’s a sexy beast of a machine.
He shakes his head and shifts the car into Drive. “Nothing. You just looked relaxed for a second, that’s all.”
“You say that like it would be a bad thing.”
A smile tilts his lips as he nods. “You’re usually on the edge. You know, hyper, ready to jump down my throat.”
“Maybe that’s because you were an arrogant prick when we first met.”
“I beg to disagree.”
“You can beg me all you want, but you were still an asshole.”
Desmond scoffs. “I recall flirting you under the table the entire first day you came to class. You seemed to like it too. What happened to that girl?”
“Woman,” I correct. “And that was before I realized you have a thing for flirting girls under the table.”
Desmond chuckles. “And you were disappointed?”
“More like disgusted.”
He shrugs. “Well, I’ve known you for a few months now, and you’ve never gotten sick in my presence, so I’d say your version of disgusted is all right by me.”
“It’s not too late. We are stuck together twenty-four, seven these days. Anything could happen.”
Desmond bites down on his bottom lip like he’s suppressing a smile, and I can’t help but do a double take at his long, disheveled hair, bright-blue eyes, and rugged beard. He’s not at all the type I would have ever found attractive back in LA. But for some reason, looking at him now, I can’t help but wonder what those whiskers would feel like between my thighs, or what that pouty mouth would feel like on my pink flesh. Desmond may not look like any man I would have ever dated in LA, but he sure as hell resembles someone I wouldn’t mind getting it on with now.
“I’m counting on that,” he says.
For a second, I have to tear my thoughts away from the mental image of him buried between my legs to remember what I said to prompt that response.
Anything could happen.
I choose not to respond and instead reach for the dial of the stereo. I turn it to my favorite radio station. As soon as I hear Matt Nathanson singing through the speakers, I squeal and twist my shoulders to the beat. I’ll always be a country girl at heart, no matter what influence the city has had on me, but Matt Nathanson on the piano is something to be