Chapter 1 #4
So what comes out of my mouth is something as honest and earnest as Carlos.
“I… I’m going to be a preschool teacher,” I blurt.
“For real. I want to teach. Which means I need to find an apartment I can afford since my dad will cut me off. And I… I want to date someone who knows and likes me.” I press a hand to my chest. “Not just someone who likes the same restaurants and activities I do. And I… maybe I’d like to learn a foreign language or bake sourdough or…
I don’t know exactly. I want to find something I’m passionate about.
I want to be more than… well, more than I am right now. ”
Carlos stares at me for a second like he’s as stunned as I am by what I’ve said.
Holy fuck, could you be more awkward, Erick? Jesus.
But then he smiles, brighter than the brightest star in any constellation.
“I love that,” he whispers. “Fuck, we should all be doing that. Living our best, most honest lives, or whatever. But I don’t think that’s impulsive either, Erick,” he says seriously. “I think you sound like a man who already knows what he wants. At least, in some respects. And that’s hot as fuck.”
The air between us practically crackles, it’s so charged with possibility. I lean forward slightly, and Carlos mirrors the movement.
“Now this, on the other hand,” he says softly, “this is impulsive.”
“Oh,” I say nonsensically.
Then he closes the distance between us and kisses me.
My hands come up to cup his face as I kiss him back. His lips are warm and taste a little like beer and a lot like him.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“B-better or worse than the mechanical bull?” I ask.
He huffs. “I don’t know. I haven’t landed yet. Come with me?” He stands and holds out a hand.
I nod, probably too eagerly, and Carlos drops a few bills on the bar for whenever Ames comes back.
He leads me through the mostly empty restaurant and out onto a dark, deserted back patio strung with fairy lights. It’s cool, bordering on cold, out here, and I shiver slightly in my button-down shirt. Carlos steps closer, his body hot against mine.
“Better?”
“Much,” I say, meaning it. Lots of things feel better when Carlos is close to me.
I kiss him again, more urgently this time, and he responds with no hesitation. The way his hands slide into my hair and his body presses against mine feels so fucking right. Not like his first time at all.
“God,” he breathes against my mouth. “You’re so…”
“Not a woman?” I tease. “Masculine and manly and not at all like Marnie?”
“Beautiful,” he corrects. “And funny. I like you.”
I inhale sharply because… fuck. He’s not exactly spouting poetry here, but he’s so fucking sincere. And it turns out sincerity is my kink because heat floods my stomach.
He presses me back against the wooden fence.
“Erick,” he pants.
My lips hover over his. “Tell me what you want. Be impulsive.”
“You. Fuck. I want to… I want to feel you.” He rocks his hips against mine, and the friction makes us both groan. He’s hard and huge against my thigh.
I slide my hand between us, palming him through his jeans. I’m not drunk—not on the alcohol anyway—but the overwhelming want I feel for this guy is making me lightheaded. I don’t care that we could be caught at any moment. In fact, that only heightens my arousal.
“Like this?” I whisper.
His head falls back on a choked moan. “I… yes.” The admission sounds like it’s torn out of him. “Fuck, yes.”
I quickly work open his belt, and when I wrap my hand around the smooth heat of him, Carlos makes a sound like he’s been electrocuted. He fumbles with my pants too, hands shaking slightly, and then we’re pressed together, all friction and need.
It’s fucking glorious. I can’t remember the last time I felt so wanted. So fully me.
“This okay?” I ask as I jerk us together.
“Perfect. Fuck, you’re perfect.”
I’m not, and I’m pretty sure he’s not either, but in that moment, together, it feels like we might be.
Carlos’s hands are everywhere—in my hair, on my back, clutching my ass, gripping my hips so tightly I barely have room to move. I bury my face in his neck, breathing in that scent of his that drives me wild.
“C-close,” he whispers way too soon. “Erick, fuck—”
“Me too,” I manage. And then he shudders against me, his release warm between us.
The sight of him coming undone, the broken noise he makes, pushes me over the edge. “Oh. Oh, fuck. Oh,” I moan brokenly.
“Christ, that’s sexy.” He blows out a breath. “Fucking amazing.”
“Yeah?” I pull back to look at him, and his eyes are soft under the fairy lights. “No regrets?”
His lips tip up, and his smile is a white flash, and he pulls an honest-to-god bandanna from his pocket to wipe my hand off. “Only that it’s so damn cold we might freeze like this, and tomorrow, someone’s gonna find a couple very underdressed Popsicles.”
Laughing, I help him straighten his clothes and then deal with my own. We’ve just barely gotten ourselves presentable again when the back door opens and Ames steps out.
He takes one look between us and shakes his head. “Un-fucking-believable,” he mutters. “This patio gets more action than I do!”
Carlos and I look at each other guiltily.
“Uh. Sorry, man,” Carlos says with a shrug. “We just…”
“Yeah, I know what you just,” Ames says. He waves a hand and gives us a steely-eyed look. “I’m going back inside now, but when I come out in ten minutes, this patio’s going to be magically empty. Understand?”
We both nod emphatically.
“I owe you one,” Carlos tells him. “Really.”
“Yeah you do,” Ames agrees, but he rolls his eyes, and I’m pretty sure he’s smirking. “Nine minutes,” he says as he heads back inside, saying something under his breath about needing to get laid.
When the door slams shut, I look at Carlos, suddenly aware that this might be the end of…
Whatever the hell this was.
“I should, um…” I hook a thumb over my shoulder toward the inn next door, where I’m staying.
“Yeah,” Carlos agrees with a nod. “Been a long day, huh?”
But neither of us moves. Finally, Carlos reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.
“Can I…? I mean… Would you want to…? I know you’re going back to the city and I’m here, but—”
“Yes,” I say immediately, taking his phone and texting myself with it.
He slides his phone away and stares at me again. “Look, I know… I know this seems like the most impulsive thing in a whole list of impulsive shit I’ve told you about tonight, but…”
“But it also doesn’t,” I say softly.
Carlos nods. “I, ah… I’d like to know more about your impulsive decisions. And your not-so-impulsive ones. I want to hear what you ‘Oh’ about. Basically, I just want to know I’ll hear from you.”
Who says shit like that? Just, flat out, no games played?
Carlos does, apparently. And I really, really like it.
“You will,” I promise. “Tomorrow, even.”
“Good.” He presses a swift kiss to my lips and then pulls back. “Sweet dreams, Erick.”
“Sweet dreams, Carlos,” I breathe.
I watch him walk back to the restaurant, and then I make my way back to my hotel room, my phone already in my hand.
I have a text message to write.