"Ned."
He pulled back from her, his eyes hazed from exhaustion and desire. He had been on the edge of it for days now, fighting himself to keep awake for one more hour, long enough to see it all through, and now his head was light as air above his shoulders, and now he half-dreamed.
"Okay?"
She nodded, once, and then her gasp was pressed against his mouth when he kissed her again. She was wearing a zippered sweater, the pull resting at the rise of her breasts, where he dared not touch for fear of her reaction.
She laughed when they pulled apart, backing away from him too much, her eyes not quite meeting his. "Maybe we should watch the movie."
He almost groaned. He hadn't seen her in days, due to the damn project, had given up hours they could have spent together, and here she was, in the back seat of her car with him, and in a skirt, for God's sake. It required no thought on his part.
Apparently it required thought on hers.
She brushed a hand over her hair and pressed her lips together and tugged her skirt down an inch, as the two leads held a rapid-fire conversation through the speakers at the back of his head, and his skull felt almost tender, and her knee brushed his. He could feel the beginning of an apology on her lips.
She offered him a piece of red licorice rope, and when he refused it, he watched her slice off a bite with the rapid click of her teeth, her lips red in the dark.
He was just aware that he had been staring at her too long when at his other side the group of rowdy teenagers, all perched on the edge of the truck's flatbed, started hooting at the screen. Two of the boys started shoving each other, and he heard the splatter of a cup of soda against the pavement.
She turned at the sound of it, as well, and when he turned back to her their gazes met. He reached up and cupped her cheek in his palm, and she closed her eyes.
"Nan?"
"Hmm?" she breathed, her eyelashes only shadow on her cheek, and her lips were gleaming.
"You know I care about you, right?"
Suddenly her blue eyes were open, their gaze so piercing it almost brought his headache back. Her lips parted, but she didn't speak.
He scooted a few inches closer to her. "I know we've been taking things slow..."
She nodded, and blinked, but her gaze never stopped searching his. "What are you saying," she breathed.
In the depth of the kiss that followed, he rested his fingertips lightly on the zipper pull before he inched it down, and when the sweater hung open she turned her face just to the side, so that his lips were pressed against her cheek. His palm was warm on her knee, and she bowed her head, her hair falling like silk between them. "Ned, what," she whispered, and he shifted his hand, smiling when he felt her shiver.
"Are you okay?"
She raised her head, then dragged a hand through her hair to pull it away from her face before she met his eyes. "Can I ask you something..."
"Sure."
"How many girls have you... slept with?"
His hand slipped off her knee, until the heel was resting on the seat and only his fingers were just barely within the faint warm aura of her flesh. "Three," he admitted. "But I'm clean."
"Oh." He leaned in close, until he could just feel the blush burning in her cheeks. "That wasn't... why I was asking."
He cupped her cheek again, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You want to see if I get good recommendations?"
She shook her head and her lips brushed his palm. "I think that maybe you expect... something... from me..."
"Well, Nan, I mean, you did bring me out here to a drive-in, in that cute little skirt, and..."
She ducked away. "Yeah," she murmured. "It's just that Bess was planning something special with Kent, and I thought this would be fun..."
"And it is fun." He slipped his hand against her side, between her shirt and sweater, and she drew in a swift sharp breath, pulling ever so slightly away from him, her eyes fluttering shut. He was aware of her hand resting just on his knee, and he waited to feel her nails through the fabric of his pants, waited for her to give in and climb on top of him, trusting the dark to keep them hidden from the teenagers who had parked beside her.
"How many guys do you think I've slept with?"
His thumb traced a slow semicircle against her side, and he shrugged. "At least one," he replied. "More?"
She shook her head. "Not even one."
His thumb stilled. "What?"
She sighed and turned her head toward him, even though from the angle of her face, she was directing her remarks at the center of his chest. "I haven't slept with anyone."
Before he could stop himself, Ned felt the laughter, the giddy sound of it, spill out. "Are you serious? Not even..."
She nodded, and even though something in her gaze had hardened slightly, the lack of sleep and the caffeine and the euphoria of being in her presence were too much. "Not even with Frank."
Ned slumped back against the cushions, his expression incredulous. "No wonder," he said softly, then shook his head and chuckled. "Poor guy."
"I thought you hated him."
"No... no, I didn't hate Frank, and I definitely won't now. How long did you date him, and you still didn't put out?"
Nancy shook her head. "Just forget it," she said, her mouth a firm line, as she tugged the zipper back up. "I don't know why I'm even telling you this."
"Nan..."
"Just... just go, okay?"
"Go where?"
"I don't care where you go, as long as you get out of this car." Her eyes were blazing now, and under the force of that gaze, he couldn't even form a coherent sentence, much less an apology.
Five minutes later he was standing in the vacant parking spot, ignoring the bald stares from the teenagers, with his cell phone open in his hand.
"I need a taxi, please."
After the longest ten minutes of his life, once he was in the back of the cab, wondering how it had all gone so completely and disastrously wrong, the driver turned around.
"Where to?"
"Home," Ned replied, exhaustion hard in his voice. "Just take me home."