Chapter Eight
NICKY
Nicky pulled the Jeep up over the curb and right into the front yard of the Football House so that the passenger door was even with the stairs from the deck.
He knew for a fact that Chris and Mike did it all the time, and he liked the idea of surprising Lucy Rollins.
Truth was, he liked all the ideas of Lucy Rollins.
Had for a while. In middle school when she knew all the answers in science class.
In sophomore year when she got three studs put in her left earlobe.
And, God, those fucking hair buns. He’d had full-fledged fantasies about tugging down those hair buns.
He couldn’t believe his luck, running into her.
He’d never had the guts to approach her before.
Mostly, women came onto him. It sounded like a stupid-ass problem.
Not a problem at all, except it made him extra nervous when he had to do the picking up.
He’d thought Lucy wasn’t interested. She’d never even looked at him except when he faked needing a pencil in class or something, just to make her.
But school was over. There’d be no more accidental run-ins with Lucy Rollins.
She’d be off to college in a few months, and he’d be off to …
wherever the fuck he ended up going off to.
Lucy walked out from around the side of the house and shook her head with a laugh when she spotted him in the Jeep. Perfect reaction. Perfect smile.
‘Need a ride?’ he teased.
‘Yeah,’ she said, opening the passenger door.
Thank fuck he’d remembered to put the doors and the lid back on the Jeep before he left Dover. Sometimes girls got weird about maybe plunging to their deaths on the pavement.
Once Lucy was buckled in tight, Nicky punched the tape deck to start it up and took off toward Rehoboth.
‘Where we headed?’ Nicky asked.
‘Stockley Street. Two blocks off the boardwalk. At the Funland end.’
‘Got it.’
He turned left at the light onto Coastal Highway and spotted Lucy tapping her fingers on her jeans to the beat. Singing quietly along to the song.
‘You know this song?’ Nicky asked.
‘Sure,’ she said in a tone that was halfway between duh and how dare you . ‘It’s Brad.’
‘No one knows this band,’ Nicky retorted.
‘Obviously, that’s not true, because I just proved that I do. Plus, I’m a bit of a Pearl Jam superfan so …’
‘Okay,’ he said, bringing his finger to the car stereo with perfect accuracy – practice made perfect. He hit fast-forward for a beat, then play. ‘How about this one?’
The tape started up right in the middle of the chorus of the next song.
She huffed, like it was the easiest ask ever. ‘The Verve,’ she replied, correctly .
At the next red light, he hit the buttons again and a new song came through the speakers.
‘Oh, getting tricky on me, are you? This is a live album, Jeff Buckley.’
‘Damn,’ he said, impressed. ‘All right, how about …’
He hit fast-forward for a little longer this time. Pushed play with a flourish and cranked up the volume, one-hundred-percent sure he’d stump her.
Sweet, fluid guitar riffs filled the Jeep. The steady thump of a slow drum echoed in the background like a heartbeat, just the framework for the groove and improvisation of the guitarist.
They traveled a mile or more, without a word from Lucy. Nicky glanced over at her. Her eyes were closed, and a smile played over her lips, just as sweet as the guitar.
‘Having trouble, sweetness?’ he asked wryly.
‘No,’ she said, grinning at him. ‘Just wanted to listen.’
His heart kicked up double time.
Her face lit up in triumph as she said, ‘It’s Stevie Ray Vaughan’s “Little Wing.” And I love it. I do miss Hendrix’s lyrics, though.’
Nicky felt like someone had hit him with a bat. Right to the skull. Or, maybe the chest, because his heart was hammering against his ribs.
‘You’re the real deal, aren’t you, Lucy Rollins?’
‘I suppose that depends on your definition,’ she said as she leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes once more, like she was soaking in Stevie Ray Vaughan through her skin.
Mine , he thought. My definition.
Nicky pulled the car over abruptly. Blocking the driveway of some ritzy, oversized house in Silver Lake.
Lucy looked up in shock. ‘What’s wrong?’
Nothing was wrong. Things were so incredibly right Nicky couldn’t take it anymore.
‘Couldn’t wait,’ he said, throwing the Jeep in park.
‘Wait for what?’
Nicky leaned toward her and slid his hand over her jaw. She looked up at him, her eyes nothing but thin bands of blue in the darkness.
He put his mouth on hers, and she opened hers immediately. Her hand reached around and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, twisting and pulling it as though trying to drag him into her lap.
He smiled into the kiss, and he could feel her smiling back. Felt her chuckle on his tongue.
Who knew laughing and kissing at the same time could be so hot?
They went at it like that for a while, kissing like it was a job they were both determined to do well.
They kissed until his cock against his fly was painfully hard.
Until Lucy’s cheeks were pink and her lips raw.
Cars passed, headlights streaming over them like strobes.
Nicky’s knee jangled the keys in the ignition.
The music around them drifted in and out from one song to the next.
Finally, Nicky came up for air. Made the long, slow trip back to reality. ‘Shit, where am I?’ he breathed against her lips.
‘Here,’ she said, laying cool fingers on his cheek. ‘Couple more blocks to the house.’
Nicky threw the Jeep in gear and peeled out.