CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN SABRINA
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SAbrINA
I wake abruptly, confused. Bright lights flash, and it takes a moment to realize they’re passing streetlamps. Pushing myself up, I look around. He’s driving, the radio playing softly, tapping his fingers on the wheel. I clear my throat, and he turns the volume even lower.
“Hey, baby,” he says. “You alright?”
“Yeah. I feel like I slept on my neck.” I crack it, and it’s so loud, I gasp. “Where are we?”
“Memphis.” He comes to a halt at a stoplight. It flips green, and he goes right, heading down a side road and pulling back onto an off ramp. “I’ve been thinking about you while you were sleeping.”
“Uh, ok.”
“That sounded kinda fucked.”
“Not to me.” I stretch, cracking even more joints. “What were you thinking about?”
He thinks before speaking, the way he always does. He’s so careful with everything, with his words, his thoughts. At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I thought he was guarded, but now I know better. He’s just slow to hurt others.
“You wanted to hit the road with me to see the world. I’ve been so focused on having an ordinary experience, talking to regular people, staying in regular places. I haven’t given you a chance to see the other side.”
“The other side?”
He glances over and then grips my thigh. Heat thrills through my hips.
“You ever stay in a hotel so nice, you can’t book it online?” he asks.
My stomach flip-flips. “No. You know that.”
“Alright. Let’s do it.”
I smile, surprised to realize I want that.
Never in my entire life have I been spoiled by luxury.
I’ve never had the desire or even thought about it longer than a minute or two.
But maybe…I might like to be someone different for a night.
And if I’m going to be different with anyone in the whole world, I want it to be Coen Taylor.
“Yeah?” I whisper. “I don’t know if I’m dressed for all that.”
He takes his phone from the console. “Open DoorDash and schedule a delivery to the hotel.”
“Excuse me?” I say, taking the phone. “Are you trying to impress me?”
He shrugs, smiling faintly. “All my credit card info is already in there. I ordered a couple toiletries already. Pick out a dress, shoes, whatever the fuck you want, baby.”
My jaw is on the truck floor.
“What?” he says.
“I feel like a female bird,” I laugh. “You can stop strutting. I’m already won over.”
He laughs, putting his hand on my thigh again. “Go on,” he says. “And put some lingerie in there too.”
My brows rise to my hairline. “Oh, really? You think you’re getting lucky tonight?”
He looks over for a second, light flashing across his gorgeous face. “Baby, I’d feel lucky just getting to see you in it.”
What the hell has gotten into him? Smiling so hard, it hurts my mouth, I look down at his phone, because I’m burning up, cheeks hotter than the desert we just drove through.
If my calculations are correct, I slept for about four hours, which means he’s been thinking about something real hard for all that time. His entire vibe changed.
Or maybe we’re just getting closer to home for him.
Maybe I’m about to see the other side of Coen, the industry side.
That’s too heavy, too complicated of a thought to dwell on right now. He’s not in the mood either. I bring up the app and hit one of the icons that looks like a fancy boutique at the top of the screen. A dozen pieces appear, and I gasp aloud.
“Don’t look at the prices,” he says. “Just hit that buy button.”
I pause and then decide…what the hell? He has money.
“Alright then,” I say. “I guess I have to put out for this.”
“Nah, you just have to let me eat that pussy. I don’t care what happens after that.”
A hot flush comes in another wave. God, he is something else when he gets in a mood like this.
Shaking my head, I start scrolling until I find the perfect little cowl neck black dress that will sit right below my ass.
I’ve never worn anything so daring. Well, I think tonight is the night.
I put it in my cart and then scroll until I find a pair of pumps.
After that, of course, I have to add in body glitter, tanner, razors, lotion, hair products, a curling iron.
It’s never as simple as getting a new dress.
When I hand the phone back, I know that price tag is higher than the skyscrapers in the distance.
He glances at the screen, flicking his thumb.
“I don’t see any lingerie,” he says, handing it back. “Get something I can take off with my teeth.”
“Excuse me?” I’m giggling, flustered, and shocked all at once. There’s also a little dawning realization.
Is this who he really is? When he’s not all worn down and exhausted?
And depressed.
Gazing at him in the pale glow of his phone, I realize with a lurch in my stomach that I fell for him.
Maybe not in love yet, but something that’s the first step.
Watching him start to open has been a privilege.
Seeing him learn to laugh and let his guard down is something I’ll always remember, no matter what happens in the end.
“We’re gonna be there soon,” he says, swinging off the freeway. We’re going past a ritzy mall, lit up in floodlights.
“Alright, calm down,” I say. “Or tell your dick to calm down.”
“Yeah, no chance of that.”
He flexes his leg, and the truck speeds up.
Adrenaline hits my brain, and I feel a little bit drunk on him as I drag my attention to the screen.
This time, I search for lingerie, and it comes up.
All strappy, made of lace and gauze, and so damn serious, like I’m dressing for my wedding night.
Something catches my eye, and I click on it, my heart in my mouth.
Before I lose my nerve, I put it in the cart and hit the buy button.
“Here,” I say, handing the phone back.
“And…we’re here.”
I look up. We’re off the parkway, going down a dimly lit paved lane that runs along a set of manicured trees.
I squint at the ground. Is that…fake grass?
The trees beyond it are real, but it’s so even, it looks like it’s plastic.
I don’t have time to dwell on it, because we pull up to a gate, and a guard puts his head from the booth.
“Coen Taylor,” he says, taking out his wallet.
He doesn’t have to even show it. The gate goes up, and the guard tells him to have a nice night.
My toes curl in my shoes. Do I like this…a little bit?
“Is it too late to add anything onto the order?” he asks, pulling up a hill and into a smooth parking lot.
Up ahead is a hotel I can just tell costs real money. Everything is all on one level and made up of crisp, white, square segments. The big windows let out an orange glow. The trim is all black steel. Parked by the front are a row of sports and vintage cars. A valet loiters nearby in a perfect suit.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I mean, no, you have time to order something else.”
He takes out his phone, swipes it a few times, then puts it into his pocket. Then, he leans across the seat and takes me by the jaw. I see a flash of his dark eyes, and my stomach dips as his mouth meets mine. It’s a brief caress, and then he pulls back.
“This part of the trip is for you,” he says.
My heart hurts, in both the best and worst way. I don’t want this to end, but I don’t see how it won’t.
I close my eyes, and he kisses me again.
When he pulls away, I get out of the vehicle and wait as he hands our things to the valet.
Everyone is acting strange around him, like he’s royalty or something.
I guess that’s what happens when he gets closer to the hub of country music, and he starts slinging his real name around.
As we walk up the front walkway, I can’t stop from staring in awe as the lights come on and sprinklers rise in the lawn. So that grass is real, I guess.
I’m open-mouthed.
When I glance over at him, he’s just looking at me, dark eyes all soft and hungry. A delicious shiver goes down my spine. I love this feeling; for tonight, I’m Cinderella, stepping into his world. I want to hold on and savor every second.
Tomorrow’s worries are for tomorrow.