Page 40 of Injustice and Absolution

Dropping my phone on my bed, I finish chugging the rest of the water before hopping into the shower.

* * *

The moment Drew pulled up in front of the house, I wanted to run back inside and hide under the covers. As I was getting dressed for breakfast, some of my excitement got eaten away by a fresh feeling of anxiety.

What will we talk about?

What if we don’t have anything in common?

What if the more he gets to know me, the less he likes?

But he led me to his car with his hand at the small of my back, like he did last night, and opened my door for me like a gentleman. The car ride to the Dover House Restaurant was a bit quiet, despite his efforts to get me talking.

Then we were seated at around booth, forced to sit next to one another. I was hoping for a table between us to allow myself a little space. But by the time we were through ordering our food, I started to loosen up a little.

What started out as a discussion about the best breakfast meat—I said scrapple, but Drew prefers bacon—turned into a lengthy conversation about likes and dislikes.

Drew seriously dislikes scrapple.

“Do you folks need any boxes today?” The waitress takes stock of what we still have left on our plates.

I shake my head no at the same time as Drew answers, “Just the check, please.”

The waitress nods and begins to clear our dishes from the table.

“I’d like to treat you to breakfast as a thank you for last night,” I tell Drew.

This restaurant is a little more expensive than what I’d choose for myself, but I’d like to show him my gratitude for refusing my drunken advances as well as ensuring I was tucked into bed safely.

“No way. I invited you, it’s my treat. Plus, you don’t have anything to thank me for,” he insists.

“Please? You were right to hold me off last night. I felt pretty rough this morning, but I know it would have been worse if you hadn’t.”

I realize my words came out harsher than I meant them, and I try to backtrack, “I mean, not that I don’t want to kiss you in the light of day or when I’m sober. I just mean that it’s good we didn’t sleep together.”

Who said anything about sleeping together?

This is turning into a trainwreck with a side of dumpster fire.

Drew places his arm over the back of the booth’s seat, turning his body toward mine with a cocked eyebrow and an amused smirk.

Ugh.

Open mouth. Insert foot.

“I mean, not thatthat’swhere it would have headed. You obviously seem like a gentleman, so I’m not assuming anything like that. I just—”

But before I can ramble on like it’s my first time speaking to another human being, Drew cradles my head in his hands, pulling me toward him as he presses his lips to mine.

Effectively both shutting me up and awakening the delicious ache within me.

Tilting his head to the side, he deepens the kiss by running his tongue along my lips, waiting for permission to enter. I open for him and am hit with the comforting taste of coffee mixed with a sweetness that can only come from Drew, as he doesn’t take sugar in his coffee.

It’s another one of his dislikes.

With an urge to reach out and touch him, my hand moves to his chest, which is hard and strong beneath his T-shirt. A soft growl vibrates beneath my palm as he shares his appreciation of my touch.

The kiss doesn’t feel weird or unwanted like the few I’ve had with other guys in the past—Royce excluded. On the contrary, his lips offer care and affection, as much as his touch boasts strength and security. As though he already knows every one of my fears and he’s vowing to protect me from all of them.

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