Winter Solstice in St. Nacho's (St. Nacho's #5) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,85
about driving a rideshare. Not because I need the cash, you understand. This is my place, the SeaView, and I do just fine. But I like meeting new people. I like talking to the tourists.”
“Not every rider wants to talk.”
“Yeah. My lady friend pointed that out. And I’m not sure I could go very long in a car without saying anything. I don’t like drawn-out silences.”
“If that would be hard, maybe it’s not for you.”
“I guess it’s—” He glanced out the window. “Oh, I’ll bet that’s your dinner now.”
I followed his gaze to see someone ride up on a bike. There was a box on the back with the word Bistro stenciled on the side. “Might be.”
I went out to meet the dude—dudette?—who brought my food. They were just taking off their helmet when I got outside. Thuong and I stared at each other.
“Shit,” we said in unison.
I cleared my throat. “This is a totally awkward coincidence.”
“Seems to happen a lot.”
“I didn’t plan it.”
“I must be cursed.” He handed over the paper bag with my food but kept hold of the handles. “Fucking St. Nacho’s.”
“I’m sorry.” I tugged, but he didn't let go.
“You are so weird.” He took a step toward me. I backed up. “Weird and pretty and meddlesome.”
“Maybe I should look for a job on Scooby Doo.
He pushed me until my back hit the wall next to the motel office door.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
This close, I could feel the heat from his body, flushed with exertion. I smelled his sweat, and a cologne I’d never known him to wear before.
“Thuong?”
He leaned forward until his mouth was inches from mine. “Are my pupils dilated?”
“Yes.” Awkward, trying to see both of his eyes from up close like that. I had to look at each one in turn. “A little.”
He took my hand and pressed it to his heart. “You think my heart rate’s accelerating?”
I found it a lot easier to focus on his lips. “Seems like it. But you were just on a bike, so—”
“Jesus, don’t be dense.” He sniffed at my neck—a long deep pull of air that tickled and aroused at the same time. “I can’t get enough of you, Luke.”
“What?” Of all the things I thought he might say, his words were nowhere close. My heart leapt into my throat at the first touch of his hand, and my pulse rocketed in my ears. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes you do. I want to breathe you in. I want to eat you up. It’d be so easy to make you my new drug, Luke. Do you understand why I can’t do that?”
I swallowed. Nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“If this happens between us now, I’ll lose focus. I’ll make you into the thing I need. I don’t want to need you. I want to be free to love you because it’s good for both of us.”
Love me? I gave another short, sharp nod. “I understand.”
“If you move here, I can’t—” He rasped his unshaven cheek against mine. I shivered all over. “It won’t change anything. You’ll still need to keep your distance.”
“I will. I promise to try, but it’s a small town. You can’t blame me if we bump into each other by accident.”
“Sure I can. Even if it’s not fair.” I felt his lips curve into a smile against my ear. “Thanks for the scooter. I love it, you bastard.”
“I’m glad.”
“Why on earth would you think have a driver’s license?”
“Get one.” I told him. “Let Muse ride it until you do.”
“Okay.” He pulled back just enough to fit his lips to mine. I tasted desire, unhappiness, and raw determination. Would he ever be ready to let me kiss him first, or hold him the way my body longed to? Would he ever want be with me again?
His kiss devastated me.
All our future kisses were his to give or withhold until he gave me a sign he was ready to move forward. If that was how it had to be, I welcomed it, welcomed anything he had to give without asking for more.
“Everything all—” Carl peeked out the door. “Oh.”
I hid my face in Thuong’s neck and laughed while Carl hastily retreated.
When at last Thuong let me go, I had control of the shopping bag with my dinner in it, but I no longer had much of an appetite.
“Thuong?” I asked. “Is tipping extra considered déclassé after your driver macks on you?”
“Fuck you.” He smirked as he put on his bicycle helmet. “Keep your distance like you promised you would.”