Chapter 32
32
TUCK
I ’ve got a knack for looking on the bright side.
Yeah, it sucks that Olivia isn’t ready to be fully open about us yet. We’ve been together a couple days now, and I just can’t wait until we can have everything out in the open. Can’t wait until when I’m talking about her, instead of saying Olivia , I can say my girlfriend .
The thought makes my chest warm in the best way.
But, until then, like I said, I know how to look on the bright side of any situation. And there’s one big bright side to the fact that Olivia doesn’t want us to share that we’re together with anyone we know for a little while.
Sneaking around is hot as fuck.
The other day, Olivia and I were in her room when Summer came home hours earlier than Olivia expected her. But I’d just pulled her pants down her legs and settled my head between her thighs, and there was no fucking way that I wasn’t getting what I was starved for.
She had to bury her face in a pillow to keep from screaming as I lapped her up. Hearing her muffled moans as she struggled to stay as quiet as possible while thrashing with pleasure from my tongue was one of the hottest fucking things I’ve ever experienced.
She wrapped her legs so tightly around my head that when I pulled away, I saw the soft, creamy insides of her thighs had grown red from brushing against the rough stubble of my cheeks.
The sight made me so fucking horny I needed to get off, so then it was my turn to struggle to stay silent as Olivia finished me with her mouth.
Yeah, once I can truly say Olivia is my girlfriend, it’s gonna be pretty fucking great. But in the meantime, being her dirty little secret has its perks, too.
My cock pulses in agreement as I look outside the window of the small coffee shop I’m sitting at and see her car pull up. I’m going with her on her drive to Burlington, where she has rehearsals for the Macbeth play.
Yeah, she got the fucking role. Of course she did.
It’s a way for us to surreptitiously spend time together.
Yeah, she taught me that word. Of course she did.
When her car pulls up, it feels like my heart is bouncing up and down on a trampoline. I hop out of the store and slide into her car, immediately pressing my lips to hers.
“So secret,” I rasp jokingly while I caress her lips with mine, “so forbidden.”
She giggles, the sounds vibrating against my lips in the best fucking way.
Shit, if she didn’t have a rehearsal schedule to keep, I’d tell her to find a dark, secluded alley to drive into and take her right here in this car.
A jolt of electricity zips from the base of my cock and tingles right at the tip. Car sex is officially on my to-do list now. Sooner than later.
I connect my phone to her car radio. “You know what tunes we’re singing along to during this drive,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Taylor Swift?”
“Who else?” I shoot her a wry grin, and then I’m belting out the lyrics of the first song from the very first word.
She tries to resist, but by the third song, I’ve coaxed her into joining me in this singalong. As the cold Vermont air whips by our car while we drive down the road, we’re warm inside, our three voices—mine, Olivia’s, and T. Swift’s—bounce around the cabin, and both Olivia and I have the biggest, goofiest grins on our faces for the whole drive.
When we get to the theatre, she introduces me to the rest of the cast and staff there as a friend of hers.
None of the actors or people working at the theatre are connected to Brumehill, so I guess she’s comfortable that being seen with me here won’t affected us trying to keep things quiet down in Cedar Shade.
There are some more people, friends or relatives or partners of some of the other actors, who are here just to hang out and watch the rehearsal. A couple recognize me as a Black Bears player, and we chat about hockey a bit.
It’s pitch-black after rehearsals when Olivia and I step outside the theatre onto the streets of downtown Burlington. It’s that early darkness of winter, where the sidewalks are still busy with people walking home from work and the streets are packed with the lights of commuters’ cars.
“Hungry?” I ask.
“Very,” Olivia nods.
We brave the icy wind for two blocks to head to a diner I noticed on the way here.
Linda’s Diner. It’s homey, the kind of place a diner scene would be filmed at in a 90’s movie. I like it immediately.
When we slide into the booth, my breath stalls in my throat. This is the first time Olivia and I are having a real sit-down meal together.
The thought makes an intense feeling hum through my chest. I realize with a rush of emotion that I’ll always remember this moment. I’ll always remember how I feel right now. How Olivia looks sitting across from me, with her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, her pale freckles standing out more than usual, her bottom lip pulled thoughtfully between her teeth as she browses the menu.
No matter what happens between us, I’ll remember this moment. Linda’s Diner in Burlington, Vermont will always have a special place in my heart.
I realize I haven’t even taken a breath in a while, and when I do, chills skitter down my back as my chest expands on an inhale.
When I open the menu, I have the idea to order something I don’t eat very often. I want to order something that I’ll specifically associate with this dinner with Olivia at Linda’s Diner. Something that’ll spark memories of this night every time I bite into it from here on.
I settle on a chicken salad sandwich. It’s something I know I like, but I just never order it very often. It’s something I don’t have any specific memories associated with. Now, for the rest of my life, I will.
While we eat, I ask Olivia all about her upcoming role. I have to admit I don’t know shit about the theatre. Or about Shakespeare. I read Romeo and Juliet in high school, and in my freshman English class at Brumehill, I was assigned Othello.
I was such a fucking slacker my freshman year that I didn’t read it, but at least I kinda know what it was about.
Well, I know there was a character named Othello at least.
The drive home is another Taylor Swift car concert; but, uncharacteristically, I’m the one to turn the volume down right as the thick trees of the Vermont countryside give way to the snug college town of Cedar Shade.
There’s a certain item on my to-do list that I’ve suddenly got a real bad hankering for scratching off.
When we’re at a red light, I inject all the seriousness into my voice that I can when I say, “Olivia, I have a very important question to ask you.”
She turns to me, her features pinched in concern from my tone. “What?”
I let two beats pass as my eyes bore into hers with a weighty gaze. “Have you ever had car sex before?”
It takes another beat for my words to register with her, but when they do, crimson floods her cheeks. “No …”
A devious grin tilts my mouth. “Want to?”
Her lips twitch, heat igniting in her green eyes. “Yes.”
I incline my head to our left. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna be walking down that alleyway any time soon.”
She has a feline grin on her face while she rolls down the dim, narrow alley on the outskirts of town. “You sound like you’re quite the expert in finding places for car sex,” she says, a hint of sarcastic accusation in her voice.
“Believe it or not, you’re wrong. Never done it before.”
Her brow dances as she pulls to a stop. “So I get to take your car sex virginity?”
Her words catch me off guard, and I laugh. “That’s right. You get to defile me.”
There’s a feral flash in her eyes. “I like the sound of that.”
We’re already pulling each other’s clothes off as we clamber to the backseat.
Checking something off a to-do list never felt so fucking good.