A/N: Short one today to bridge where we are to where we'd rather be. Thanks .big & dee for your reviews.
Dee: that loose thread will be woven back through soon enough...I thought they should be happy for at least one chapter before more drama unfolds!
Seth and I don't do a great deal of talking until a long while later, once we're past traipsing through the forest and back in the confines of civilisation…that, or in the comfort of my car. He gives me directions to First Beach, and I do my very best to keep my eyes on the road, though his warm hand resting on my knee makes rational thought very difficult. The asshole knows it, too, if his lopsided grin is anything to go by, but I let it slide.
After all, I did defile him in a mop closet. The least I can do is give him a taste of normal high school romance in the form of copping a feel in a sedan that smells suspiciously of old McDonald's fries and sweaty gym shoes.
I clumsily pull into the gravel lot, parking as far away from the rest of humanity as possible, on the off-chance that I actually see someone I know down here. It's not that I'm ashamed of Seth, or anything, but after a succession of failed first dates and lacklustre relationships, I'm tired of making introductions. Thankfully, Seth makes it easy not to think about things, what with the way he makes my heart skip a beat every time his fingers ghost across another inch of my flesh.
This boy is lethal.
Even his mere presence beside me is enough to cloud my mind with a dizzying chorus of Seth Seth Seth, the kind of hormone-infused obsession that I thought I'd left behind in my teenage years. In truth, it's not all in a horndog sort of way – I could listen to him recite the phonebook backwards in language, and I'd still be clamouring for more. There's something different about Seth, a kind of magnetic charm that makes me want to know every last thing about him, in between knowing every square inch of his body.
Like I said – lethal.
"You okay?" he asks, curling a burly arm around my shoulders.
I shuffle closer until I'm tucked snugly under his arm. "Mm. Just thinking."
"About?" Seth says, pushing a wayward curl behind my ear.
Normally, the intent way he's watching me would have me running for the hills, but there's something soothing about his presence. That, or I'm neck deep in a freeze response.
"Well, I think I owe you a date. A real one."
His lips quirk into a tiny smile. "As opposed to a fake date?"
"More like no date, if you keep that up," I tease, and he throws his hands up in mock surrender.
"Okay, okay. A real date it is," Seth declares, squeezing me lightly. "What do you want to do?"
I hum, weighing the options. Dinner seems too formal, the movies too cliché. Ice skating is a definite no.
His expression suddenly brightens. "There's a bonfire this Friday. Have you ever heard our legends?"
"I thought the bonfires were, like, invite only. White people begone."
Seth snorts. "You're lucky you're cute, Stanley. I can't take just anyone, you know."
"I'm honoured you chose me," I tease, jabbing him lightly in the ribs.
It's meant to be a totally light-hearted aside, but the smouldering stare he hits me with has me longing for round two of the broom closet.
He dips his chin until our lips are almost touching, our breath intermingled in the cramped front seat of my shitty second-hand Accord.
"I'll always choose you," he murmurs, leaning forwards infinitesimally to close the gap.
My eyelids flutter closed, content to surrender myself to the moment. I don't think I'll ever get used to his lips on mine, nor the way his calloused fingers cradle my skull like I'm made of porcelain. He kisses so slowly, so leisurely, almost like we've done this a billion times over, our idiosyncrasies mapped to the nth degree.
It makes me want to make him lose control.
I hook my thigh over his lap, shuffling closer until I'm straddling him, and judging by the low noise he makes in his throat, he's hardly unaffected.
Seth drops his broad hands to my waist, his large hands spanning the planes of my spine, and I can't resist grinding down on him, smirking as he bucks against me.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Jess," he whispers, tracing the column of my throat with his tongue.
"Good," I murmur, tangling my fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. "You know how I feel about losing."
I can feel him grinning against my skin as he dips lower to nip at my exposed collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh beneath.
In a move entirely too shameless for broad daylight, I tug my sweatshirt off entirely, thanking my lucky stars that I bothered with a cute bra.
It doesn't twig until his face is pressed soundly against my chest that the low rumble I hear is coming from him.
"Did you just…growl?" I ask breathlessly, squirming as his tongue laves over the new terrain.
"Uh…yeah," he mutters, sucking hard on the top of my breast. "My bad."
As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing bad that this man could ever do.
His dark eyes flicker upwards, framed by his impossibly thick lashes, and I swear the jolt of electricity coursing through me is a one-way circuit to where I'd prefer his mouth to be.
A loud rap on the window banishes that thought clear from my brain.
"Get a room, Clearwater!"
Seth splays his hand protectively across my chest, gesturing rudely at the stranger. "Piss off, Collin!"
His voice drips with annoyance, but he can't hold the irritation for long, quickly slipping into laughter. "Well, that's Collin. You'll meet him properly on Friday. Ideally with a shirt on."
"No tits out in public," I say, nodding with mock seriousness. "Got it."
Seth's still laughing when I tug my crew neck back into place, sliding back into the driver's seat. His hand settles back on my thigh, and I don't bother hiding how much I enjoy the little gesture.
"Want a lift back to the diner?"
Seth nods sheepishly. "Yeah. I should probably finish my shift," he admits.
"Probably," I agree, and that's enough to set us off laughing again.
I'll never admit it to Seth, lest his head grow three sizes, but I spend the entire week counting down the minutes until I'll see him next. Between his surprisingly demanding work schedule and my chaotic swing shifts, there's hardly a moment that we're even able to text without a few hours' delay, let alone have a proper conversation. Still, he messages me religiously during his downtime, and I fight to find things other than payroll and food prep to complain about.
It's all about balance.
Angela comes over on Friday afternoon to help me get ready, tearing apart my closet in five minutes flat. She casts a scornful eye at the outfit I laid out on my bed – ripped jeans and a v neck combo – before tossing the garments back into the pile.
"That's giving hoe, not housewife," she comments drily, laughing as I flip her the bird.
"What, you don't think his friends want to see my rack?" I joke, pushing my chest out to make my point.
Angela considers for a moment. "Not sure that helps your case. How about this?"
She holds up a long-sleeve top, albeit far more modest than my original selection, and I shrug.
"Sure. I'll be ready to swing by evening Mass afterward," I say, taking the shirt from her outstretched hand.
"Look, he's already seen the goods, and judging by the way he looks at you, he's smitten. You don't need to show off for him," Angela says, flopping back onto my bed. "Besides, his family will be there. They don't need to know what you're packing."
By the time I've squeezed into my jeans and tugged on my blouse, freshening up my makeup with a quick swipe of mascara and gloss, it's almost time for Seth to pick me up. Angela wrestles with my mane for a good few minutes, twisting the strands back and forth until my hair resembles some sort of braided arrangement, and the effort is enough to have me considering returning to bed.
"Don't even think about it," Angela warns, shoving my boots into my hands. "I didn't rearrange nacho night for nothing."
I roll my eyes. "Is this when you admit that Ben's head over heels for you?"
A knock at the door saves her from answering, but considering the sour expression she sports, I'm pretty confident that the answer is a very consistent no.
Maybe one day.
If Ben is lucky.
Seth is standing on my stoop in shorts and a singlet, looking as wonderfully underdressed as ever. He breaks into a wide smile when I step outside, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my hairline.
"Hi," I say, closing the door behind me. I should probably do something other than stare stupidly into his mesmerising chocolate eyes, but I can't pull a coherent thought into my forebrain.
"Hey," he grins, twining his fingers through mine. "Ready to go?"
"Course," I say, falling into step behind him.
He leads me down onto the street, rushing ahead to open the passenger door for me. My stomach flip-flops nervously as he jogs around the hood to the driver's side, sliding in beside me with all of the energy of a golden retriever. He launches into an animated recollection of some debate he'd had with Brady earlier in the day as he cranks the truck into life, giving me a lively run-down of their latest drama. I should be paying attention, I know, but it's near impossible to think beyond the washing machine style churning going on in my gut.
Seth trails off mid-story, placing his hand over mine on the vinyl seat. "What's up?"
I smile weakly. "Nothing. Just tired."
He frowns. "You sure?"
This would be a wonderful time to be honest with him, but I don't want to spoil the evening – certainly not before we've even left my street.
My fear of his extended family will have to be discussed some other time.
"Sure," I say, plastering a broad smile across my face. "So, who am I meeting tonight?"
He begins to rattle off a long list of names, pausing every now and then to let all of the information sink in, but it's not without a series of obvious side-eye glances. Seth is too damn intuitive for me to keep my angst to myself – Lord knows I try – and, despite my best efforts, the words spill right out.
"I don't think Leah likes me. Or Collin."
"Collin's an idiot," he says dismissively, flipping on his blinker. "Also, he's just jealous. You're a bit of a hot topic 'round here."
My eyebrows shoot up. "Me? Why?"
"Probably 'cause I can't shut up about you," Seth says matter-of-factly. "Leah doesn't like change. She'll come around…once we get past the protective older sister front she puts on."
"Right," I say, mulling it over. "I should probably introduce you to Paige sometime. She's basically an older, more sensible version of me. Like, me if I actually remembered to file my taxes."
Seth frowns. "You don't pay your taxes?"
"I feel like this is definitely a second date conversation topic. Don't get ahead of yourself."
"Noted," he says, brushing his long hair out of his eyes. "Hey, I'm really glad you came out here tonight. Brady's getting real sick of being the only witness to you being real."
His dark eyes twinkle when I snort, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Surely you having a girlfriend isn't that unbelievable."
Seth smirks. "Girlfriend, hey?"
"Shut up," I whine, flushing hot under his gaze. "You know what I meant."
"Not sure I do, Stanley," he teases, pulling wide into the dirt lot. "Bu-u-ut I guess I can let you off the hook this time."
"How generous of you," I comment, pressing a hand to my chest dramatically.
He laughs, a low rumbling chuckle that has warmth spreading through my body like liquid gold, the kind of laugh that makes me want to be on girlfriend terms.
It's a solid maybe.
As soon as he's parked, Seth turns to me, grabbing both my hands in his. "Jess, my friends are kind of weird. Please don't let them scare you off."
I smile, lacing my fingers with his. "How bad can they possibly be?"
Famous last words.
A/N: Next chapter will be the bonfire from Seth's perspective. I'm trying to update every second/third day since I'm on holidays, so we shall see how that plan works out. In the meantime, enjoy some very incorrect quotes that made me laugh.
Jess: I'm going to take you out
Seth: great, it's a date!
Jess: I meant that as a threat.
Seth: See you at five!
Leah: What the fuck is wrong with you?!
Jess: Wow, you could start with a 'good morning'.
Leah: Good morning. What the fuck is wrong with you?!