My hand shakes as I make the call. Dally’s phone rings and goes to voicemail.
‘Hi. I know you’re being the super cool bad boy driving away from his past right now, but I kind of ditched out on Jake and went for a drive. And somehow I’m in the countryside and Old Blue’s run out of gas. So I’m trapped out here. There’s a big barn with an ugly cow painted on it near me and my phone is dying and I’m pretty sure I may get killed by zombies or Leatherface, so if you aren’t already halfway to Arizona I’d really love—’
My phone dies. Perfect. I collapse onto the steering wheel with a muffled wail, willing myself not to cry. Surely a motorist will pass by. Old Blue’s clock tells me it’s two-thirty.
Almost an hour and zero cars later, I’ve cracked open one of my extra water bottles and am nibbling on some stale goldfish crackers I found in a Ziploc baggie in my glove box. Catherine Jacobs, survival expert.
It’s a little before four when I hear an impossible sound.
‘No way,’ I mutter.
But there, coming out of the darkness behind me, is a single headlight, moving slowly. I reach for my water bottle. Either I’m about to be saved or I’m about to become a skin suit.
The single light stops behind me and the familiar motor shuts off. ‘Cat?’ Dally calls as he pulls off his helmet.
I get out of the car, sheepish and so stupidly glad to see him.
‘Of all the things that could have gone wrong,’ he gripes, ‘it had to be you forgetting to fill up before you decided to run away from home.’
‘I wasn’t running away from home,’ I protest. ‘I just needed to clear my head.’
He shakes his head and unties a gas can from the back of his bike. ‘Move.’
I watch as he fills up my car. In the moonlight, the earlier injuries from his fight with Jake aren’t too bad. But he winces a little when he adjusts the gas can.
‘Will you be okay?’ I ask him.
‘Yeah.’ The can is finished. He screws the gas cap back on and reattaches the can to the back of his bike.
‘Where’s your bag?’
He doesn’t look at me. ‘At the shop. I was staying there until I could head out this morning.’
His calm explanation pisses me off. ‘So you’re not even going to stay for my graduation? You’re just going to leave?’
I’m not prepared when he turns and strides toward me, eyes flashing angrily. ‘Why is everything about you? I’m trying to move on with my fucking life instead of sticking around waiting for you to fall in love with me—’
He’s opening his mouth to say more, but I wrap my arms around his neck and drag him down, kissing him as hard as I can. Trying to burn away the flood of emotion that socked me in the gut with his admission. At first, nothing happens. Then he moans against my lips and wraps his arms around me, devouring me.
My ass hits Old Blue, but it doesn’t slow Dally. He tightens his arms and lifts me in a smooth motion, carrying me to the front of the car. He sets me on the hood and steps between my open legs, dragging me to the edge. I rest my feet on the fender and he grinds himself against me, pinning me in place with his hand so I feel every inch of him.
When I make a noise of need and try to pull him closer, he rips his lips away from mine. ‘You are so damn confusing,’ he growls.
His other hand slips up under my shirt, finding my breast. I gasp when he rolls my nipple between his thumb and finger.
‘You want me stay,’ he says. ‘You want me to go. You need me. Cat, did you ever think that maybe I need you?’
His hand disappears and I complain until he’s hauling my shirt up and over my head. He throws it behind me and unhooks my bra with a speed I can’t quite follow. That gets tossed on the hood next to me.
But that’s where the ferocity ends. He eases me back with a reverence I’ve never experienced. He kisses his way across my chest, teasing me with the brush of his lips. I moan when his mouth finally closes around my nipple with a warm, wet heat, sucking it to a tight peak before easing off to start the entire process over again. Each pull sends a bolt of heat through me, one that settles between my thighs, making me wet with each brush of his jeans against my shorts. He takes his time, dividing his attention evenly between them, waiting until my breathing gets shallow to draw up and make o
ut with me before dipping back below my collarbone.
‘Dally, please—’
He makes me beg before lifting me up from the hood. He snags my shirt and bra, tossing them in the front seat, and helps me crawl into the back seat. I’ve never thought it was cramped until he’s in here with me, dark eyes sweeping over me in lazy movements.
He undoes my shorts and tugs them off, only to freeze when he sees my underwear. ‘Bumblebees?’