“I am a precious pearl in a sea of clams.” Elise grinned.
I grabbed her hand as she turned to finish up her closing duties on the repair side, conveying everything I felt without words. She squeezed my hand in response.
Suddenly a bottle of peach schnapps clunked down in front of me. Midnight had stolen it from Butch’s stash for those days when we needed a little pick-me-up. She gave me a tentative smile and nudged the bottle forward.
“I figured you could use a shot,” Midnight said.
I unscrewed the cap and took a small sip. It burned my throat and warmed my stomach, and that tightness in my chest eased a bit more. “Thank you.”
She shrugged. “It’s the least I can do.”
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
I LEFT WORK SO Midnight and Elise could close. If I’d been smart, I would’ve driven straight home. It was late. Paxton was probably already in bed. Or he was awake and pissed at me. But I hadn’t been doing anything smart lately, so why start now? I pulled my car up next to his front yard, shut off the engine, and rested my head on the steering wheel.
If I laid out all my feelings, the way he had done, where would that leave me? What if we eventually broke up? Would I be able to stand working with him? Or what if we didn’t break up? What if we had an amazing relationship? Would I still be able to move to Chicago? His refusal to drive pretty much said he’d be staying put, and regardless of my recent revelation, I couldn’t do the same. I needed more than this town could offer.
Even with all those questions racing through my mind, I wanted him. I didn’t want to be afraid of my own feelings anymore. I didn’t want to let my mom’s path in life haunt every step of my own. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, she would’ve gotten out. She would’ve had her high-rise office and bearded boyfriends. And I could still get out too. Caring about a boy who cared about me wouldn’t ruin my future if I didn’t let it.
I went through his back gate, prepared to tap on his window. This was a terrible idea. He’d probably yell at me for showing up in the middle of the night, like any normal person would do. I’d have to move to Canada, change my name to Maple, and take up curling.
As I went around the side of the house, I caught sight of a faint glow. Paxton lounged on a lawn chair with Matilda on his lap. His computer sat open on a garden table, with Say Anything playing on the screen. He looked at me and jumped up, nearly dropping Matilda, grabbing her scruff at the last second.
“What are you doing here?” His gaze slid over me, to the hemline of my dress, lower, and back up again. He swallowed hard. “I thought you had a date?”
“It ended hours ago.” I took a step closer to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it wasn’t, like, a real date. I didn’t even shave above my knees.” Oh my God. What was wrong with me? “Not that you asked about my pre-date rituals. Please say something so I’ll stop talking.”
“Hold on.” He put Matilda in her hutch and walked back to me just as Lloyd held the boom box over his head. “It wasn’t a date?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. It doesn’t matter.” Maybe it was the dark or what I’d confessed to Elise or most likely the peach schnapps, but I felt bolder than I had in a long time. I took another step, closing the gap between us. “Why haven’t you texted me?”
“I thought you wanted space.”
“I don’t want space.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him against me. Here in the dark, surrounded by bunnies and daffodils, with the feel of Paxton’s hands on me, I wanted something real. I didn’t want to be Fly Ball Girl. I didn’t want to be one half of the viral Internet couple. I just wanted to be me.
He cupped my face with one hand, while the other slipped around my waist. His thumb grazed my jawline, and I pushed up on my toes and kissed him. His lips, so soft and careful, pressed against mine. I opened for him and his tongue swept over mine, slowly exploring at first, until I tugged him closer and deepened the kiss. He groaned, and the sound traveled all the way down my spine.
My fingers tangled in his hair as his hands roamed. Up my back, over my stomach, and across my ribs. Everywhere he touched burned, followed by a pleasant shiver that went straight down to my toes. He broke the kiss and his lips brushed my ear, trailed down my neck, then back to my mouth. I couldn’t get enough. I rubbed his chest over his shirt, touched his arms, solid from working in the repair shop for the last year.
His breath was warm on my neck as he murmured against it, “You taste like peaches.”
“Do you like peaches?” My voice had gone breathless.
He pulled back, his thumbs circling my sides. “I fucking love peaches.”
His mouth covered mine again, and I was drowning in the scent and taste and feel of him against me. I wanted more. I wanted everything. He guided me over to his lawn chair and sat, pulling me with him. I straddled him, grinding against his hips. He was hard beneath me as his fingers dipped under the hemline of my dress. I smacked his hand away and he chuckled in my mouth. The gentle vibration nearly undid me.
“I forgot you didn’t shave above your knees.” He traced the lines of my calves.
“Believe me, if I’d known I was going to come over, I would’ve.” My hands rested against his chest, and it took all my willpower not to rip off his shirt.
“Why did you come over?” He rubbed my arms. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“I saw your note, with the flowers, in the trash.”
His breath whooshed out of him. “That was an impulse.”
“Picking the flowers and writing the note, or throwing them away?”
“Both?” He let out a shaky laugh and eased me off his lap to stand. Whatever he was about to say, he didn’t want to do it with me on top of him. “I meant what I said on the note, but then I saw the picture of your date. Or whatever it was. It looked cozy. I guess I didn’t want to get in the way. If you didn’t feel the same way about me.”
I would never eat salmon again for as long as I lived. “That date was not really a date.”
“What was it then?” he asked.
“It was more of a …” I twirled my hand, trying to figure out how to explain Eric. Especially if we kept playing this game online. “A business arrangement.”
“What?” Paxton had gone still. So still.
Until tonight, I hadn’t told anyone about my and Eric’s plans to use each other to meet our own ends. Maybe before dinner part of me questioned if it could be real between us after all. Maybe a bigger part of me was ashamed of the levels I’d stooped to for YouTube subscribers.
“Eric wants to be a big-deal sports blogger.” I toed at the browning grass under my feet, refusing to meet Paxton’s eyes. “All this media attention, it’s giving him an edge. His blog hits are through the roof, the Royals gave him locker room access, and I’m helping that along.”
Paxton crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s in it for you?”
“My YouTube channel just passed two hundred thousand subscribers. Once I post the video of us at dinner, it could go even higher.” I glanced up at his tense face. Not at all like the boy who’d been kissing me breathless minutes ago.