Falling for You

“Amanda’s a bitch. You can’t listen to a word she says.”

“She’s not a bitch, Josh. She’s scared. I know you say that baby isn’t yours, but she’s holding on to a shred of hope that it is.” Layla sighs and looks up at the stars again.“Are you going to marry her?”

“Fuck no.” I drop the tailgate and climb onto the bed to sit beside her. “On the off chance that kid is mine, which it’s not, I don’t love her. Having a kid isn’t a reason to get married.”

Layla bites her lip, probably reading too deep into what I said. I don’t love Layla, but I could one day. I like her enough, but it’s too soon to cross that bridge.

“My parents don’t love each other. They don’t even like one another.”

I cup Layla’s cheek and force her to look at me. “That won’t be me. My mother loved my dad so much, she never married again after he left us. Even though they didn’t work out, I want a love like that. I want to be with someone that makes my heart race so fast it skips a beat. I want to wake up with that person, every day, and know that, no matter what, we’ve got each other's back. I want that person to be my best friend, because being partners isn’t good enough. Amanda can never be that person to me. “

Layla’s quiet for a long time. I need her to speak. I’m going crazy in my head. Given enough time, she could be that person. What we have is special, she’s got to know that. I don’t want to lose her because of some batshit crazy pregnant chick.

“Those are some big shoes to fill.”

I

smile, relieved that she might want to fill them. “That’s why I haven’t dated in years. I never met anyone I thought was right for the job.”

“And you think I am?”

“I think you could be.” My hand slides from Layla’s cheek to the base of her neck. I want to kiss her. To feel her body mold against mine. To hold her soft curves and let the fire that comes with her touch consume me.

But Layla pulls back. I laid my heart out there for nothing. My stomach drops to my feet. I don’t bother to hide the downturn of my lips. Layla didn’t break my heart. I may be falling for the girl, but I’m not that deep. She did put a chip in it that aches and reminds me why I don’t put myself out there anymore.

“Take me home, Josh.” She stands and hops off the tailgate. “Because I’d hate for our first time to be in a church parking lot.”

I didn’t expect that. My lips twitch, turning upward. “It would make a great story for our grandkids one day.”

Layla smirks and punches my shoulder. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. If you don’t have the moves, there won’t be any grandkids.”

“Oh, I’ve got moves, baby.” I jump over the side and open the passenger door. “Just you wait and see.”

“I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” I announce as soon as we pull into Josh’s driveway. I bolt out of the truck and run to the front door. It’s open, as per usual because as Josh says, “If someone is willing to walk on my land and steal my shit, they better be willing to die.”

I shut the bathroom door and twist the little lock on the handle. I don’t have to pee, but that twenty minute ride was long enough to sober me up. Back at Hattie’s house, I was confident, ready to jump on Josh and ride him until sunset. Now, I’m fucking terrified. I got so deep into my head, thinking about how bad Ashley was in bed, my leg started shaking.

Josh, of course, noticed, but I played it off like I was cold. Bad idea. He cranked up the heat. So, not only am I stress sweating from nerves, I am also sweaty from the ride here. I lift my arm and sniff my pit. It’s not bad, but there’s a distinct deodorant smell. Not exactly sexy, if you ask me.

I grab the washcloth that’s hanging on the rack and run the corner under the water. I swipe the rag down my chest, because salty boobs are nasty, then rinse again and wipe under my arms. I look in the mirror and straighten my high-rise, low-cut Native dress, then decide going to the bathroom now versus later is probably a good idea. Of course, as I’m sitting on the toilet, it dawns on me: if my boobs are sweaty and gross… I look down at my freshly shaved vag and grimace… I bet that’s sweaty too.

I finish tinkling, wipe, then grab the wash cloth again. I never worried about any of this with Ashley. Having sex with him was a once every few months chore. If I was sweaty and gross, he never said anything. In fact, he never made any sounds. Our five minute rides were awkward, silent, and unsatisfactory. Dear God, I hope sex with Josh is better. If not, I don’t see the point.

I slip my panties off, then raise my leg to the toilet. No sooner do I wet the rag again and bring it to my center is there a knock at the door. Shit!

“You alright in there?”

“I’m fine!” I grab the towel hanging on the rack and dry myself, then toss it and the wet washcloth beside the toilet. I whip the door open and smile. “Hey.”

Josh smirks, giving me a once over. “You’re flushed. Everything okay?”

Of course I’m flushed. My goddamn rosacea flares up every time I'm nervous, excited, or angry; covering my cheeks and neck with a veil of crimson. Colson used to try and piss me off, just to see how red he could make me. “Just a little hot.”

Josh’s brows push together with worry. “Can I get you a glass of water? Or something?”

I take a step forward, swallowing the knot in my throat, and grip his faux leather vest. The moment my hand touches him, something inside me burns to life. My body aches to be touched. If Josh knew how badly I wanted him, water would be the last thing he’d be offering. “Or something.”

I slam my body into his and literally every thought and worry is gone the moment our lips meet. Josh’s fingers dig into my thighs as he lifts me off my feet. I wrap my legs around his waist and curl my fingers into his hair.