“Come on. My mom is driving all of us home,” Avery says as she leads me towards the door. When I get my slightly foggy head to focus, the dashboard reads twelve-thirty. How in the world did it get to be so late? Or early? I guess, technically, it’s early, right?
My phone buzzes in my purse as I slide into the backseat between Josselyn and Erin. I can’t control the smile that crosses my lips when I see Nate’s name on the screen. I slide open the text message screen and go all school-girl giddy when I read his message.
Hey, beautiful. Having fun?
I try to reply back quickly, but my fingers aren’t working properly for some reason.
Yep. I can’t feel my fingers.
Why the hell did I just tell him that? Oh. My. God.
LOL Well it sounds like fun. Where r u?
Ur mom is driving me home. I’m sandwiched tween Erin n Joss. ;)
Seriously. Someone take the phone out of my hands, STAT!
That’s something dreams are made of.
You wish, Hot Fireman.
LIA! Put the phone down!
My phone dings again signaling his reply.
Hot, huh?
Duh. He has to know how hot he is, right? If I used a thermometer to check his hotness, he’d blow the glass ball of the tip of it! My fingers fumble as they type one word. Thankfully, spellcheck corrects it so it’s spelled right.
Scorching
I stare straight at the screen – waiting for his words to appear. Ding.
What if I told you I was sitting on your steps right now?
I’d ask if you were naked.
Well, I’m outside so I’m definitely not naked…yet.
Can I touch your tattoos?
Baby, you can touch whatever you want ;)
I’m on my way
See you soon
And with that exchange, I find us driving past the Welcome to Rivers Edge sign. Josselyn is smirking in the seat next to me.
“Hot fireman?” she asks under her breath.
“Well, he’s a fireman and he’s hot. And I apparently can’t control my fingers when I text him. Remind me not to drunk text.”
“Yeah, but if it gets you naked and underneath my brother-in-law, I’m pretty sure that’s not a bad thing,” she says with a wink.
We drop Erin off at her place that she shares with Jake. She’s surprisingly sober considering we all just consumed enough wine to keep a third world country hydrated for a week. She throws a wave over her shoulder as Jake meets her on the front steps. He pulls her tight against her, practically mauling her in front of his mother, sister, neighbors, and God. When we pull away, Jake is carrying her inside the house, fireman style. Suddenly, I’m itching to get my hands on a certain tattooed fireman.
Mrs. Stevens pulls into the alley behind the bakery to drop me off next. Just as he mentioned, Nate is sitting on the steps waiting for me. The catcalls from Josselyn and Avery start immediately, bringing an uncontrollable smile to my face. Any other time, I’d be completely mortified by the unwanted attention, but with all the liquid courage buzzing through my bloodstream, I’m surprisingly calm. Excited. Nate stands up and saunters over to open my car door. I practically fall out of the car as I try to get both legs to work properly – or trying to hurry out to get to Nate. Take your pick.
“Nathan Michael, you make sure that Lia gets some aspirin and water before she goes to bed,” Mrs. Stevens says from the driver’s seat.
“Yes, ma’am,” Nate replies with a sly grin.
“And don’t keep her up too late,” she adds before sliding the gearshift into drive. I can hear Avery and Josselyn howling with laughter as the car pulls away. Nate slides his big hand around mine and gives me a gentle tug towards the stairs.
“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks as we start our assent.
“It was amazing. Your family is wonderful. I forgot what it’s like to enjoy the company of friends,” I tell him, my voice trailing off to almost a whisper.
Nate spins me around about halfway up the stairs. He lets go of my hand but only to thread both hands into my hair. I’m a step above him which makes us eye level; our lips line up perfectly. The look in his eye is fierce and intense. I want to look away from the pure honesty in his eyes, but I just can’t. He’s making his intentions for tonight perfectly clear, and I hope that the look in my own eyes reflects my need for him, because I do. I need him. I need him with an urgency I’ve never experienced in my entire life.
“How drunk are you?” he asks without breaking eye contact.
“Not nearly drunk enough to not know what I’m doing or what I want,” I reply.
“And what do you want, beautiful?” he asks as he leans in a little closer.
“You. Just you,” I tell him, my breathing slightly strained, as my eyes remain locked on his.