Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
INDIGO
This is wild. Malik is actually here, sitting at the bar like it’s no big deal, like this isn’t the moment I’ve been low-key daydreaming about for weeks.
“I need to finish my shift, but do you wanna get some food after?”
He smiles, and my stomach flips, catching me off guard. “Yeah.”
He turns back to his seat, and I bite my bottom lip as I watch him walk away, that strong back and the way his shirt pulls against his shoulders. Ugh, he’s so damn sexy, I can barely concentrate. For the next two hours, I sling drinks, trying to focus on my job, but every so often, my eyes drift to him. He nurses Dr Peppers, and I can feel his gaze on me as I move around the bar.
Finally, it’s closing time. I pause the jukebox, silencing the music. “Bar’s closed!” I call out, making my way to the front. “You don’t gotta go home, but you gotta get the fuck out of here!”
The few stragglers groan but head for the door, and Malik is one of them. I watch him, my heartbeat picking up a little. When he steps outside, he turns back and catches my eye. My lips curve into a smile, playful, inviting. “Wait for me in the parking lot? I Ubered here.”
“I’ll be here,” he says, his deep voice sending a spark down my spine.
We’re gonna go get milkshakes. I’ve already decided. It’s not even a question.
As the door swings shut, I can barely hold back my grin.
My man is tall, thick, and built like he could carry me out of here and throw me around like I weigh nothing. He’s not one of those stick-thin gym rats with abs that look like they hurt to touch. Malik is a real man, broad and solid, and I just know he could handle me.
Just imagining the feel of his hands on me makes my thighs clench together. Heat pools low in my belly, and I glance down at the crotch of my pants.
“No,” I mutter to myself. “Naughty girl. This is our first date. You’ll stay hidden.” I press my lips together, trying to calm the restless desire, as if she could listen to reason.
“Indigo, you coming? I’ll mop if you stock!” Brenda’s voice cuts through my thoughts from behind the bar, and I snap back to reality.
“Deal,” I respond, trying to sound normal, but the edge in my voice is still there.
I head to the back and start filling my arms with pop to put in the pop fridge. My mind is still spinning, stuck on the image of him. I picture Malik’s hands on my hips, his breath against my neck... Ugh. Focus, Indigo.
I start stocking the fridge, slamming cans into place with more force than necessary. I need a distraction, something to cool me down. But all I can think of is Malik waiting for me outside, and it makes my pulse quicken again.
“What’s up with that guy?” Brenda asks.
“What guy?” I shoot back, feigning ignorance as I close the fridge door and move over to stock the bottle cooler.
“The one who was at the bar all night. I served him some beers, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
I stop, caught off guard. “Malik? The one in the green plaid?”
“Yeah, him.”
“Oh, he’s my best friend,” I reply.
“Really? I thought you were, like, seeing him.” She laughs, a sound that grates on my nerves.
“So what if I was?” I snap, heat creeping up my neck. The idea of anyone thinking Malik could ever be anything less than incredible makes my blood boil.
“You’re too pretty for a guy like him. Don’t you want someone... I don’t know, more in shape?” She rolls her eyes.
My grip tightens around the Budweiser bottle. “First of all, Brenda, you’d be smart to remember I just said he’s my best friend. Second, don’t be mad that he’s into me and not you. You’d be lucky to catch the attention of a man like him.” My voice lowers, dripping with venom. “I don’t care what he looks like as long as he’s a good person, and actually? I think he’s sexy as hell.”
“I think you need your eyes checked,” she mumbles, a smirk dancing across her lips.
“Brenda, you can’t be ugly and mean. So choose, baby,” I snarl, the words spilling from me with a rawness that surprises even myself. “Say another word about him, and I’ll drown you in that fucking bleach-water bucket.”
She rolls her eyes but keeps her mouth shut, sensing the danger in my tone. I storm back to grab what I need from the fridge for bottles, my heart racing as adrenaline courses through me. This is insane—why do I care so much? But I can’t help it; Malik is different.
After I finish stocking, I wipe down the bar, ensuring it’s clean and ready for the next shift.
“I’m out of here. I’d tell you to have a good night, but you’re a bitch, so try not to get hit by a car on your way home,” I say over my shoulder.
As I clock out, I grab my bag and head outside to find Malik waiting for me in his truck. My pulse quickens when I see him leaning back, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thick thigh. Damn, he looks good.
I hop into the passenger seat and buckle up, turning to him with a grin. “I was thinking we could go to Beth’s for milkshakes.”
“Sounds good,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot.
On the way there, we chat about my shift, the usual small talk, but my mind keeps drifting to how warm his truck is, how the scent of his cologne—cedar and something sweet—fills the cab, and how badly I want to lean into him, feel those muscles pressed against me.
By the time we pull into Beth’s, I’m buzzing with energy. Malik helps me out of the truck, his large hand wrapped around mine. His touch sends a jolt through me, and I’m already thinking about how those hands would feel elsewhere. I swallow hard and remind myself to calm the hell down.
Inside, we slide into one of the green and white booths, and I find myself staring at him. The way his shoulders fill out that damn shirt, how his dark eyes flicker between the menu and me. He looks good enough to eat.
Beth, the diner’s namesake, comes over with a smile, her teeth stained yellow from years of smoking. “What can I get you two?”
“I’ll have a mint chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and Oreo dust on top,” I say, not missing the way Malik watches my mouth as I speak.
“And for you, handsome?” Beth asks Malik.
“I’ll do a chocolate malt with whipped cream and a cherry.”
Beth smiles, scribbling down the order. “It’ll be just a minute,” she says, before turning to walk away, her heels clicking against the tile floor. As I watch her leave, I can feel Malik's gaze on me, lingering a little longer than necessary, and it makes my heart race in a way I’m not quite ready to admit.
While we wait, we chat about random stuff—music, movies, nothing too serious. But I keep sneaking glances at him. He’s so damn sexy, and he doesn’t even realize it.
“So, Indigo,” Malik starts, leaning back in the booth. “You never told me you had tattoos.”
I raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips. “I like art.”
“They’re pretty,” he says, eyes tracing the ink on my arms.
I point to the tiny heart on my cheekbone. “This is my newest one.”
“It suits you,” he says, his gaze softening. “Do they all have meaning?”
“Some do, some I just thought looked cool.” I shrug.
Malik nods, his eyes lingering on mine. “I’ve only got two.”
“Where?”
He chuckles. “Barbed wire on my left bicep, and deer antlers on my shoulder for my grandpa.”
I lean in closer. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”
The shakes come, and we sip them slowly. My heart races with every glance we exchange. I wonder how his lips would feel against mine, what his hands would do to me if we weren’t sitting in this stupid diner.
After we finish, Malik insists on paying the bill. I try to protest, but he simply waves me off, a confident smile on his face. There’s something undeniably charming about the way he insists, like he genuinely enjoys taking care of things for me. It’s not just about the money—it’s the way he treats me, like I’m worth the little gestures.
We walk out, hand in hand, and he helps me back into the truck, even buckling me in. I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. There’s a tenderness to him that I didn’t expect, and it’s making it hard to ignore just how much I’m starting to like him.
“Where do you live, baby? I’ll take you home.”
“4709 Scrivens Drive,” I tell him.
As he drives, I unbuckle and scoot over to the middle seat, resting my head on his shoulder. The warmth of him, the scent of his cologne—it’s intoxicating.
When we pull up to my house, he looks down at me, his voice low and husky. “You’re home, Indigo.”
I pout. “I don’t like that.”
He frowns. “Don’t like what?”
“You called me baby earlier. I liked that.”
His pupils darken, and a slow smirk spreads across his face. “Sorry. You’re home, baby.”
I smile and reach for his chin. “Malik, I don’t wanna be friends anymore.”
His face falls. “Oh.”
I chuckle, my heart pounding. “I wanna be your girlfriend.”
His eyes widen. “You do?”
“I do. I really like you and you’re sexy as hell.”
He stares at me, his eyes bouncing between mine.
“Are you gonna say something?” I ask. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. Did I do it wrong?”
He stares at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “No, baby, you didn’t do it wrong. I’m just surprised.”
“Why?”
“Because most women don’t do the asking. And well, it’s not wrong, but I don’t think I’ve ever been asked after a milkshake date and our first in-person meeting.”
I roll my eyes. “But we’ve known each other longer, and I had a crush before I saw you. You being eye candy is just a plus.”
He chuckles.
“So, are you my boyfriend or not?”
“Yeah, baby, I’ll be your boyfriend.”
I clap before pulling my knees under me and crashing my lips to his. The moment our mouths meet, it’s electric—a collision of need and desire. I kiss him deeply, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate malt on his tongue, and it’s intoxicating. Malik responds immediately, his hands gripping my waist with a possessive urgency that sends shivers down my spine.
My fingers tangle in his hair as I pull him closer. I’m not gentle; I’m aggressive. With a mischievous grin, I lightly nibble on his bottom lip, playfully teasing him, before tracing the edge of his mouth with my tongue, savoring every second.
His hands roam my sides, tracing the outline of my hips, and I arch into him, craving more. His fingers gently dig into me, creating a pleasurable pressure that sends shivers down my spine. I pull away for a split second, just enough to catch my breath, my lips brushing against his as I smirk, wanting to see the hunger in his eyes.
“Fuck, I want you,” I murmur, barely giving him time to respond before diving back in. I’m more forceful and assertive this time. I press him back against the seat, our tongues swirling in a passionate embrace. Gently biting down on his lip, I teasingly tug it before licking over the sting, causing his breath to hitch.
He groans, a low, primal sound that makes my heart race even faster. This—I can’t get enough of him. I delve deeper, and my hands roam over his shoulders, down his arms, feeling the muscles taut beneath his shirt.
Malik’s hands slide up my back, fingers splaying across my spine, and I gasp against his mouth at the sensation.
He’s the one to pull back this time. “You better go inside, baby, or I won’t be a gentleman.”
I smirk, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Maybe I don’t like gentlemen.”
He growls low in his throat and smacks my thigh, sending a shock of heat through me. “Inside, now.”
I giggle and give him one last peck before hopping out of the truck and skipping to my door.
I wave goodbye, a giddy mix of excitement and frustration bubbling inside me as I close the door behind me. My heart races with anticipation, and I can’t shake the heat pooling low in my belly. That poop head really left me wanting more, and it drives me crazy. I storm to my bedroom, stripping down to just my panties.
I need release, and I know just how to get it. Reaching into the bedside drawer, I retrieve my hidden rose. I lie back on the bed, gasping as the coolness of the soft sheets touch my heated skin. My breath hitches as I become acutely aware of the heat pooling between my legs, the tension building with every passing second. I set the rose on my little bud, my breath hitching in anticipation. With a press of a button, I turn it to my favorite setting, and a rush of pleasure surges through me.
“Malik…” I moan as I roll my hips, chasing my release. The world around me fades away, and it’s just me and the rhythm of my body pulsing in sync with the rose.
I feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter, and I chase it. My heart races, matching the tempo of my movements, and I’m lost in the bliss.
“Yes, yes!” I urge myself, pushing closer to the edge. I scream his name, the sound echoing in the empty room, a raw, primal cry of need as I finally come undone. Waves of pleasure crash over me, leaving me breathless and satisfied, yet still yearning for more.
I lie there for a moment, the remnants of my release washing over me, my body tingling as I come down from the high. But I can’t shake the feeling of hunger still gnawing at me. Next time we see each other, he’s fucking me. I don’t care what he says.