“You liar.”
I try to jump from his lap again, but he anticipates my escape and locks his arms. “Fine. Maybe not the very first meeting, but when I watched you take down half a pitcher of beer at curling, I was intrigued. Something clicked early on with us. I can’t quite explain it.”
He kisses me slow and deep, then his tongue intertwines with mine, and we go from sweetly kissing to heavy petting. When his hands find their way up my thigh under my dress, I can tell that he’s also considering a quick trip to the sex cave.
But we can’t.
Sex will muddle my head and screw with all my thoughts, and I’ll make excuses to stay and then watch him grow more miserable. I need to stick to the plan. It needs to go down tonight. No deviations, no excuses.
“What do you want to do?” he asks, eyeing the door to the basement.
“I think it’s time we did some shots.”
Chapter 29
Dax has five levels of drunk.
Level one, his eyes get all glazed, but he’s otherwise normal. Level two, he gets unusually loud. This is immediately followed by level three, where he gets unusually quiet. Level four, he loves hard—anyone and anything. Level five, he blacks out behind Dougie’s couch and doesn’t wake up until morning.
I was aiming for a solid level three with my suggestion of shots. Quiet Dax is chill and won’t ask too many questions when I start carrying out ancient rituals. However, I overshoot. Or I underestimate the amount of scotch he’d consumed before my arrival, and now we’re deep into level-four territory, and there is no way I can carry a level-five Dax up Aunt Livi’s stairs.
“We need to go.” I hand Dax a glass of water and one of Brandon’s low-carb bagels.
“Why, Gems? The party is just getting started.” It’s not. Half the guests have left because they’re over thirty and live in fear of the two-day hangover.
The rest are a combo of guests nearing their own level fives and sober companions like me, making eyes at their Uber apps.
“My aunt called. She needs me to check on something at her store.”
He grins. His eyes are half-closed. “Anything for you, Gems.” But instead of following me out the front door, he turns and heads back toward Dougie’s kitchen.
“No, no, no.” I grab him by the hand. “We’re going this way.” I lead him to a dark-green Jeep Cherokee waiting on the street. After I buckle him in like a toddler, we are on our way. There’s little traffic as the driver chooses the quieter residential streets instead of the main ones. Dax grows suddenly quiet, leaning his head against the window with his eyes closed. I watch him as the light from the streetlamps illuminates his face as we go by, and an ache blooms in my chest. This is it. Really it. We’re going to climb those steps and undo all the trouble I’ve caused and tomorrow? Who knows what we will be?
His hand finds mine in the dark as if he can sense my unease. “I love you, Gems,” he whispers, his head still resting on the window. I settle into the little nook under his arm and wish that this wasn’t the last time, with the little hope I have left. That I’m doing the right thing. That I’m not making the worst mistake of my entire life.
The car pulls up in front of Aunt Livi’s bookstore. It takes three shakes to wake Dax, but he stumbles out into the street, then, with a second wind, hops onto a light post, makes a full spin around, then jumps down, landing surprisingly gracefully on his feet. When he straightens, his hair flips into his eyes, and he flashes the most genuinely beautiful smile.
I love him. I love him so much it physically hurts.
“Whatcha thinking about there?” I ask.
He saunters over and pulls my hips to his, kissing me hard without waiting for an answer.
“About how much I fucking love you.”
“Oh, you fucking love me?”
“Well, I love you, and I love fucking you, and I think we should get inside and deal with whatever it is we’re here to deal with so we can go back to your place and get on with the loving.” He licks, then nips, my earlobe. “And then the fucking.”
Tears brim the edges of my eyes and threaten to fall. I turn away, pulling him by the hand, not wanting him to see but also knowing how little resolve is left in my tank. The longer I put this off, the more likely it is that I’ll chicken out and it won’t happen at all.
I fit my spare key into Aunt Livi’s lock as Dax’s hands slip a strap from my dress off my shoulder. He kisses my bare collarbone as he presses his erection into my back.