Page 41 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

She stepped to the edge of the bar and I reached a hand out to help her step down onto a stool, but instead of taking it, she handed her drink to one of the other girls. Then she jumped, arms wide, eyes closed.

Jesus. Fuck.I caught her in a bear hug, stumbling backward. Despite her miniature size, the impact knocked the air out of my chest, and when I pulled it back in, I choked on a sound I wasn’t sure I remembered. It tumbled out of me, unchecked—my own laughter.

Did she really just do that? Jump off of a bar on a fucking wing and a prayer? It was ridiculous and holy shit, I couldn’t stop laughing.

“What is this?” she asked, clutching her chest with one hand. She clung to me, shaking with giggles. “Is this Nick Callaway . . .laughing?”

I shook my head. “You’re out of your mind. How did you know I would catch you?”

“Oh, Nick. I don’t think you’ve ever let anyone down in your whole life.” She leaned in and pressed her cheek to mine, her laughter petering out to a sigh.

I squeezed her tighter, turning my head just enough that I could feel the dampness of her breath on the corner of my mouth. “I need to keep a better eye on you.”

“I like it when your eyes are on me.”

Fuck. What were we doing? Hadn’t I already told myself no to this? My eyes slipped closed, my heart pummeling my chest. She had to have felt it.

“I’m not being a very good wingman,” she whispered.

I laughed at the ridiculous idea of giving any other woman at this bar my attention. “I didn’t want you to.”

“I know.”

I moved a hand to the back of her head, threading my fingers through her hair. She was so warm and open, andGod damn it, just like last night at the airport, I wanted to kiss her. Just an inch to the left and I would be.

I looked down at my other hand on her thigh, dangerously close to the hem of her skirt, at her soft curves pressed to my front. We were sharing a hotel room, a car. The last thing I wanted to do was be inappropriate and make her uncomfortable, or scared, or . . . I don’t know. But she didn’t look any of those things. She looked as affected as I was.

I hadn’t been able to tell up until now if her casual flirting and sweet smiles were just part of her personality, something everyone got, or if they were really for me. I hadn’t let myself contemplate it too hard because if they were, it was going to be a lot harder to tell myself to ignore it. Brit had me whipped from the first conversation we shared and now her lips were parted, brushing my cheek, and my whole body went rigid at the thought of that room waiting for us. The one with only one bed and none of our luggage. Whatever she was going to sleep in tonight, I already wanted to take it off.

I let her go and she slid down my front, landing on her tiptoes, arms still circling my neck. We were locked in a sort of half-slow dance, half-hug when the band slowed to a soft, twangy ballad.The fucking timing.Was the whole world conspiring to load these moments until they burst? Either way, I was done sharing her for the night.

“We should go,” I said.

Brit didn’t hear me. She spun on her toes and the light from the bar caught in her eyes. Still so fucking beautiful. “Dance with me,” she said.

I shook my head, my throat suddenly tight. “I can’t.”

She laughed. “You can’t dance? That’s not surprising.”

“Not right now.”

She grabbed my hand, holding it above her head, and turned beneath my arm like a ballerina in a music box. “Look,” she said, spinning. “You’re learning.”

The humidity stirred up the tropical scent of her shampoo, holding it in my nostrils, and I pulled a deep breath of it into my lungs. “We should go,” I said again. “It’s late.”

She looked up at me through her lashes, seeming to get what I was suggesting. I watched her throat work on a swallow, and she nodded.

I settled my tab, which took way too long, and we pushed out into the parking lot. My arm was around Brit’s waist. We were both buzzed, laughing together about absolutely nothing, and when she leaned into my side, every place that our bodies touched felt like foreplay.

There was a bench at one end of the building, and I sat, pulling out my phone to get an Uber. The closest one was twenty minutes away. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.

I was watching Brit sing along to the music, wondering what was going to happen when we got back to our room, when something caught my eye across the street. A river ran parallel to us, and light from the homes on the other side made the water look like flickering diamonds behind a tall, shadowy mass I couldn’t quite make out.

I let my vision blur until the lights became a streak of white and the shadow came into focus. It was a tree, large enough to block half of the view, with vines that hung almost to the ground. I recognized it—the type of tree.Holy shit.

An idea cut through the fog of lust and booze in my brain, and I shoved my hand in my pocket, running my thumb over the metal tin. I hadn’t dared to leave it in the hotel room. I’d had enough bad luck on this trip and I wasn’t leaving anything to chance, but now it felt like I was supposed to have it with me.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, already on my feet. I turned back to look at Brit under the glowing beer sign. “Please, Brit, stay on this bench and don’t go anywhere.”

---