She nudged him. “Like something sweet. I thought it was cinnamon, but—”
Comprehension dawned on his face, all in a rush. “Oh—yeah. Yeah.” He clicked his fingers and stood, went for his bag in the corner. “It’s star anise. Aniseed.”
When he finally emerged from the front pocket of his backpack, he had a little jar of candy in his hand. Like Red Hots, only darker, and rounder.
“I used to smoke—real cigarettes. Now I’m just addicted to these.” He held them out for her. “Want one?”
“I guess you’re all the way bad now. Offering me candy. You want me to get into your truck too, stranger?”
“Very funny. You want one or not?”
She did, but found she didn’t want to eat it right away. When his back was turned again she wrapped it in a napkin and put it in her pocket. Later, when she couldn’t so easily remember the taste of him, she’d try the candy.
“So what do you want to do now, honey?” He still had his back to her, as he wrestled with the zip on his bag. Again she thought of the things that could be in there—pajamas, razor, a change of clothes.
Condoms.
“I brought some movies you’ve most likely never been allowed to watch.”
She couldn’t stop her heart leaping. Movies. Not Johnny Did A Bad Thing or some documentary about a really Godly person. Actual and real films with probable sex in them and maybe people’s heads coming off and things.
But in the end, she couldn’t possibly choose them.
“Let’s go upstairs,” she said instead. As light as she could possibly make it, nothing in her voice that hinted at what they could possibly do upstairs. On her bed. With the condoms.
He still turned and looked at her, however. That familiar look on his face, like maybe he wanted to say no. Slow down. Stop. We can’t. But when he finally got some words out, they didn’t match the expression.
“You go up,” he said. “I’ll clear the plates and be up in a second.”
Chapter Seven
He was going to be up in a second. He’d said it. He wanted more, and although the idea of more scared her it also made her almost electrically giddy. She had to think of dull things just to keep it contained, and the longer he took the worse it got.
By the time he finally, finally walked into her bedroom, she’d made great twisted shapes in her ridiculous frilly pink coverlet. The rest of her cotton-candy ten-year-old’s bedroom didn’t even embarrass her, because every one of her thoughts was directed at what might possibly happen now.
Unfortunately, however, the décor seemed to embarrass him. He looked stunned once he’d shut the door behind him, and it was obvious why. There were pictures of babies in flowerpots on the walls. Things had frills. The frills had frills.
And all of it made her want to explain, somehow.
“I didn’t—” she started, but he cut her off like a cleaver coming down.
“Are you naked?”
The words didn’t so much die in her mouth as turn into something else altogether. Couldn’t be helped, though. Her words had expected one thing, and prepared a defense. And then he’d given her another thing instead.
Something she couldn’t exactly deny.
“Maybe.”
Even hedging sounded stupid.
“You’re totally naked under those covers. You’ve taken all your clothes off.”
She fidgeted. His open mouth just looked absolutely huge—like a mime’s version of shock. Somehow, she’d inspired a comedy caricature of a real emotion.
“There may have been some removal of the things I was wearing, yes.”
He held up his hands.
“Whoa, no. No. That’s not…that’s too much. Too fast.”
There were times, many, many times, when she just didn’t get him. She’d heard on numerous occasions that men were bad, wicked creatures, who’d do terrible things at a moment’s notice. You wore the wrong skirt or bent over at an inopportune time and BAM. They slipped their penises into you.
But not Van. He actively backed away from it—heck, he backed away from it even after he’d said he wanted more. And though she suspected that sex wasn’t exactly what he’d meant, even so, even so.
It was what she’d meant. She wanted it to be in there, meaning something.
“I thought you said it wasn’t enough—” she started, but he laid his hand over his eyes before she could finish.
“God, no. Evie—I wasn’t asking you to put out.” He swallowed too thickly. Pushed that hand through his hair hard, hard. “Fuck. I’ve somehow become one of those guys who manipulates his girlfriend into having sex before she’s ready.”