Chapter 41
SAWYER
I toss the blankets and pillows into the back of the cab while Brie throws away the popcorn and sodas. Then I hightail it out of there . . . at the posted speed limit of five miles per hour.
“Woah, tiger,” Brie deadpans. “Take it easy.”
“I’m scared of the security here,” I say, matching her tone and nodding my head at the geriatric guard dozing off in a chair by the concessions booth.
“You get in trouble for changing the radio station one too many times?” she teases.
“I wish. Rich smuggled beer in once, and I got the blame since we were in my truck. Got banned” —I look over and widen my eyes exaggeratedly— “for life.”
She snorts. “Is that the real reason you got a new truck? Hiding from the fuzz?”
Smiling, I say, “Worth it so I could bring you.”
I can’t stop thinking about it. She used to come all the way here just to sit outside the fence.
I have so many questions, most of them trivial just to paint a picture.
I want to ask how she got here in the first place, a good twenty minutes outside of town.
What movies she saw. If she brought snacks.
But just like every time Brie drops a breadcrumb, I get the feeling it was accidental.
If I push for more—and god, I want so much more—it’ll end like it did at Valley View Provisions when she hid by the to go boxes for ten minutes.
I’m not sure how Brie went from telling me to go fuck myself as she walks home in the freezing rain to hiding behind my back, but I hate it.
If my goal was to make Brie feel safe with me, I’m failing.
I thought when she told me why she left Everett, that she was opening up to me. But the more time I spend with her, the more it feels like she’s retreating into herself.
It’s killing me, trying to rack my brain for ways to make things better. I would ask, except she won’t let me in. The most mundane questions—what’s more mundane than soda flavors?—has her changing the subject or shutting down.
Is this because of how I tormented her when we were kids? I’d get it if it were, but then why be with me at all?
Maybe she’ll never be happy with me.
I grip the steering wheel with both hands, knuckles turning white. I won’t believe it. I won’t let myself assume she can’t be happy with me. Not until she says so herself. One word from her, and I’ll leave her alone, but until then I’m going to keep trying.
Before I turn onto the main stretch of highway that’ll lead back to Blue Ridge, Brie leans over the center console, bracing herself with one hand on my thigh. The action sweeps away all my thoughts, and my cock roars to life when her lips skate up my neck.
“We can’t go to your house.” She nips at my ear.
I inhale. “No.” Sheetrock dust somehow made its way everywhere, and I’m staying at Will’s until the drywall is all done.
“And you can’t come home with me.” She kisses along my jaw.
I’m rock hard.
“Right,” I croak.
Her mouth feathers over mine as she says, “Is there somewhere we could go and . . . park?”
She squeezes my dick through my pants. I cradle the back of her neck and crush my mouth to hers, thrusting my tongue into her mouth.
“Yeah,” I heave, “let’s go park somewhere.”
I frantically try to think of an empty lot between here and Blue Ridge as I turn onto the road.
“Where’re we going?” Brie asks.
She’s retreated back to her side of the car, but her hand is still distractingly on my leg.
I glance over and squeeze her knee. “I’m not sure yet.”
“You don’t have, like, a spot?”
Her skin is so soft. That’s distracting too.
“A spot?” I ask.
“Yeah, a spot. Somewhere you used to go . . . do stuff with girls.”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye. She has that same shifty look I’ve come to understand means she’s uncomfortable.
“No, I don’t have a spot,” I tell her, keeping my tone light.
She angles herself so she’s facing me in her seat. “You say that, but I know you took Melanie Crowe to homecoming once. Anna Ludwig another year. And there were rumors you had sex with Linda Flowers when she was a senior and we were sophomores.”
Suddenly, this feels like an ambush. “That’s all true,” I say carefully.
“So?” she prods.
I rub the back of my neck, but she takes my hand and puts it back on her knee. It’s a small relief that she wants it there in spite of the turn the conversation’s taken. It centers me.
“So,” I say, “they were all really nice, pretty girls. But I went out with them because . . .” I search for the right words.
I won’t do what Brie’s been doing, I won’t hide parts of myself from her.
I did that for far too long already. “I went out with them because I was a horny teenager and I couldn’t have you,” I blurt.
Her hand freezes on my leg. After a moment I look over, not sure what I’ll find.
She’s looking at me with a thoughtful expression, brows furrowed, mouth bunched to one side.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing, I—”
I don’t say a word, silently urging her to keep talking.
She does. “I just— It’s hard for me to believe you liked me even while you were having sex with Linda Flowers.”
One side of my mouth pulls up. “It’s true, though. I liked you especially while Linda Flowers de-flowered me.”
When I sneak a glance at her, she still looks dubious.
“You wanna know when?” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“For a couple months, Linda made it abundantly clear if I wanted her, I could have her. Do you remember our field day toward the end of school?”
She visibly winces. “The year I slipped in the kiddie pool during the obstacle course and got absolutely drenched?”
I smile at the memory and lift an eyebrow at her. “Yup. And you’d chosen the white field day shirt.”
Her hand goes up to her forehead. “Don’t remind me!”
“I must have jerked off to that image thousands of times after that,” I admit. “But I didn’t have to that day because that’s when I finally took Linda up on her offer. Eyes closed, thinking of you the whole time.”
She punches me on the bicep. “That’s awful,” she cries.
“I know!” I’m laughing, but I mean it. “If it makes you feel any better, she was using me to get back at her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Steve Martinez.”
Brie laughs. “So you deserved each other.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I say.
“Who did you lose your V-card to?” I ask, taking a risk. “And if you say Steve Martinez . . .”
“Linda Flowers,” she says, and I laugh.
Her fingers idly rub my thigh.
After a moment, she says, “A guy named Allen Ow. We were both freshmen, living in the same dorm. We dated for about a year, and he was sweet, but,” she shrugs, “we were eighteen. We both got bored, I guess.”
I’m immediately jealous of Allen Ow. He must’ve been an idiot to get bored of her.
Her fingers trail higher up my leg, distracting me enough to almost miss the next turn.
Brie chuckles. “Did you really jerk off to me looking like a wet rat?”
Even after all these years, the image still stirs up the deep yearning and gratitude teenage-me felt at the time.
Voice a bit deeper, I say, “You did not look like a wet rat. And yes. I jerked off to you in that wet t-shirt. I jerked off to you in your tiny gym shorts. Hell, I jerked off to you in your winter jacket.”
She snorts, and I look over to find her cheeks darkening, a sly smile curling her lips upward. “Did you have any particular fantasies?”
I blow out a long breath. “Tons. I mean, as a horny teenager, basically anything’s fair game. I fantasized about taking you in the locker room, in an empty classroom, in the gym. On desks, in chairs, against bookshelves. Literally anywhere and everywhere.”
I slow to a stop at the three-way intersection. She caresses my thigh.
Her hand delicately trails up, avoiding my groin, to my waistband. Her nails scrape across my stomach as she pops the button of my jeans. My hips nearly come off the seat, thrusting against nothing.
“Any other fantasies?” she asks innocently.
Precum leaches out of my dick as she gives me a sultry look and slowly lowers my zipper.
My throat is dry. She raises her eyebrows.
“Yeah,” I rasp. “This one.”
She leans over, giving me a tortuously quick view down the front of her dress, and kisses me. Headlights reflect in my rearview mirror, and I take the turn as Brie snakes her hand into my underwear to free my cock.
“Oh fucking fuck,” I curse under my breath.
“Eyes on the road,” She flicks the buttons on my flannel. When it falls open, she takes in a sharp breath. “Oh my god.”
A bubble of pride expands in my chest that I can inspire such reverence in her voice, but I keep my voice even, borderline dry. “You’ve seen me fully naked before, Brie.”
“Not in weeks,” she says. “You’re perfect.”
My breath hitches. She reaches for me, but I circle her wrist with my fingers.
“Not while I’m driving,” I tell her in as stern a voice as I can muster. “Eyes on the road, remember?”
“What do you expect me to do, then?” she pouts.
“Whatever you need to, but I’m not getting in a wreck with my dick out.”
“Okay,” she says, and a prickle of suspicion climbs up my spine as I approach the first stoplight into Blue Ridge. That was too easy.
The instant I pull stop at the red light, she twists her body over the center console.
“You aren’t driving right this second,” she says.
Her lips brush my slit with a kiss. She twirls her tongue around the head of my cock before taking it into her mouth and sucking gently.
“Brie—”
I put my hand on her back, but can’t speak. She hums around my crown and folds her knees beneath her on the seat. I mold my hand over her perfect ass.
The light turns green. As before, a car approaches from behind. I lift her off me, kiss her, sucking her lower lip into my mouth, then drive.
Before we get to the next light, the car behind us makes a turn. My cock twitches in anticipation of her warm mouth.