CHAPTER nineteen
A Heart Still Clinging to the Ledge
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
As we pull into the parking lot of the venue, the rumble of the engine settles into a low hum before Elias twists the key, cutting it off. The guys are already shifting in their seats, eager to stretch their legs.
“You make driving this massive thing look easy,” I say, glancing at him.
He turns his head, his full attention landing on me with that unwavering intensity that always seems to steal the air from my lungs.
“It’s not as hard as it looks,” he responds, a smirk ghosting across his lips.
“Would you like me to teach you?” he adds.
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head.
“Oh, I don’t think you want that. I’d probably crash it.”
“Nonsense.”
He stands, towering over me as he gestures toward the driver’s seat.
“Sit down.”
I hesitate, nerves twisting in my stomach, but I never back down from a challenge, especially not when he’s looking at me like that. With a steadying inhale, I slide into the seat, gripping the steering wheel with a little more force than necessary.
“Stay there,” he says, his voice firm but gentle, and then he steps off the bus to let the guys know we’ll be in soon. I watch them nod and wave as they disappear into the venue, leaving us alone in the intimate space.
Elias returns, sliding into the passenger seat, his movements controlled. He pushes the key into the ignition, twisting it with ease, and the bus rumbles to life again beneath us.
“It’s not much different from a regular car,” he says, his voice smooth, coaxing. “You just have to take turns wider than you think.”
I nod, my grip tightening. His lips twitch like he can sense my nerves. “Put your foot on the brake and ease it into gear.”
I do as he instructs, the shift sending a jolt through the bus and, consequently, through me.
“Now, give it a little gas. It’s sensitive, so take it easy.”
I look at him, seeking reassurance. He gives me that small, knowing smile and nods for me to proceed. Turning back, I bite my lip, pressing the gas.
Too hard.
The bus lurches forward, and with a gasp, I slam my foot back on the brake.
Before I can stammer out an apology, Elias lets out a low chuckle. “That’s okay. Try again. A little easier this time.”
The patience in his tone helps to put me at ease. I try again, this time softer, and the bus rolls forward smoothly.
“Good,” he praises. “Now, take the turn out of the lot. Just remember, wide.”
I follow his guidance, but my nerves get the best of me. I overcompensate, sending us too far into the other lane. Panicking, I jerk the wheel, and suddenly, we are bouncing up onto the curb.
He jolts forward, nearly smacking into the dashboard, his arms outstretched to catch himself.
“Jesus, woman,” he groans, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Heat floods my face. “I tried to tell you—”
“Get up.” His voice is softer now, but firm. A command wrapped in silk. I can’t help but think how deliciously demanding he might be in another, more intimate situation.
Focus Ramona.
I quickly put the bus in park and rise, stepping aside as he slides back into the driver’s seat. He pats his thigh, a silent invitation.
My heart stutters.
I hesitate, but the way he is looking at me—dark, expectant, amused—makes my body move before my mind can catch up. I ease onto his lap, the contact sending a slow burn through my veins. His warmth and intoxicatingly clean scent wraps around me.
“I’ll control the pedals,” he says, his breath brushing against the back of my neck. “You steer.”
His hand finds my thigh, thumb grazing the bare skin just below my shorts. His other arm wraps around me, guiding my hands to the wheel, his body caging me in without force. My pulse pounds so hard I am sure he can feel it.
“Ready?” he asks, voice dipping lower.
I swallow thickly, nodding. “Yeah.”
He puts the bus in gear, and we begin rolling forward. His hand on my leg is a distraction, but I will myself to focus.
“You okay?” he asks, his thumb sliding gently on my skin.
I barely manage to breathe out another, “Yeah.”
“We’re gonna turn into this lot up here. Just take it wide. You got this, Ramona.”
I nod, focusing on the road, on the way his confidence in me makes me want to get it right. I ease the wheel into the turn, guiding the bus smoothly into the lot and back onto the road.
“There you go,” his voice is thick with approval.
We practice another turn, and this time, I execute it perfectly, guiding us back into the venue lot. He puts the bus in park and lets both hands settle on my thighs.
“You’re a natural.”
I turn slightly, shifting so I am more on one of his legs, facing him. I absentmindedly drape my arms over his shoulders.
“I just think you’re a good teacher,” I tease. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re naturally good at everything?”
He smirks, brushing the hair off my shoulder, his fingers trailing slowly down my arm. Then his gaze drops to my lips, before flicking back to my eyes.
“I wouldn’t say everything,” he says as his fingers trail back up, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “But most things.”
“He’s humble, too,” I deadpan, trying to calm the rising awareness in our proximity, in his touch. He dips his head with a smile.
But when his eyes find mine again, something shifts.
The air between us is now crackling with an energy that makes my lips part. His hand slides up, cupping the back of my neck. His eyes fix on my lips as he intently slides his thumb across the bottom.
Then slowly, he pulls my lips to his.
They are soft, warm. Perfect. The moment they meet, a slow, molten heat begins unraveling inside me, spreading through my veins like wildfire.
He teases my lower lip with his tongue, and I open for him without hesitation, meeting him in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. The taste of him—something sweet, something purely Elias—has my fingers tangling in his hair, gripping as if I can pull him closer, deeper.
Our kiss grows, no longer just exploratory but hungry, desperate, like he’s been waiting for this, for me. And I’ve been waiting for him too. His hands grip my skin, one on my waist, the other sliding around to the front of my neck, not pressing, just holding.
I stand, never breaking the kiss, needing more. Straddling him, I melt into his touch, into the way he fits against me so perfectly. A deep, involuntary groan slips from his throat as I move against him, the sound rumbling through my chest, and I know instantly, it’s my new favorite melody.
His mouth trails from my lips to my jaw, then to the curve of my neck, nipping, sucking—eliciting a breathy moan from me.
And then I shift back too far, and the bus horn blares.
We jerk apart, startled.
Silence.
Then laughter: deep, unrestrained, breathless.
That’s the laugh I’ve been dying to hear, spilling from his lips like the opening notes of a song I never want to end. It’s unguarded, free, and for the first time, I see Elias without the weight of his own shadows pressing down on him.
It’s even more beautiful than I imagined, settling deep in my chest and lingering like the final chords of a song that plays on a loop in your mind.
He holds my face close as our shared laughs mingle, and in that moment, nothing has ever felt so good, so right.
Our laughter slowly dies down, the last traces of it floating in the space between us. I reach out, brushing the tousled strands of hair away from his forehead as he looks at me.
“So, you can laugh,” I tease, lips quirking in amusement.
Another low chuckle slips from him, softer this time but no less real.
“Or maybe you’re just not funny.”
I gasp in exaggerated offense and lightly smack the side of his head, earning a grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“I knew that I would break you down eventually,” I say smugly.
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. I’m super funny and cool and likeable, if you haven’t noticed.” I lean in close, daring him to disagree.
He just watches me, eyes glinting with amusement, lips pressed into a line he refuses to part.
“This is the part where you say, ‘Yes, Ramona, you’re absolutely hilarious, ridiculously cool, and undeniably likeable.’”
Still nothing. Just that steady, unyielding stare.
The silence hums between us until he finally moves—his hand sliding to the back of my neck with an ease that sends a shiver down my spine. He tugs me forward until our mouths hover a breath apart. His words ghost against my lips.
“You are super funny. Incredibly cool. And very, very likeable, Ramona Hendrix.”
Before I can answer, his lips claim mine again, deeper this time, thorough enough to undo whatever wit I thought I had left. There’s a mix of control and surrender in the way he kisses me that is dizzying, addictive.
When we finally break apart, the world feels suspended. His gaze pins mine, steady and unflinching, while I fight to steady the wild flutter of my pulse.
“We should probably get in there,” I say, though every fiber of me wants to stay wrapped in this moment, tangled in his warmth, in the lingering taste of his lips. My heart still hammers, my breath uneven, but reality is beginning to creep back in.
Elias doesn’t move, his hands are still resting on my thighs, like he’s reluctant to let go too. And God, I don’t want him to.
With a deep inhale, I steady myself and carefully lift off his lap. His hand finds mine as I stand beside him, and he runs his thumb over my fingers.
“I’m going to need a few minutes, sweetheart,” he says, squeezing my hand, his voice smooth, casual, but there’s a tension there.
I turn back, brow furrowed.
“Why?”
He arches a single brow, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips.
And then I follow his gaze downward.
Oh.
Oh.
Heat rushes to my cheeks so fast I swear I might combust. My mouth opens, then closes, words failing me. I swallow, forcing myself to look anywhere but at him, though the smug amusement in his expression tells me he’s enjoying this far too much.