Page 72 of Rebellious

“Fine,” I agree. If we were home, I’d draw this out and torture the fuck out of her. But here, in the grocery store parking lot, is not that time.

Bunching the material in my fists, I lean in, my nose against her thigh. Slowly, I slide the material up, inhaling as I go.

“Oh, sweet mercy,” she says, a soft moan stopping me.

“We can’t do this here,” I tell her.

Her hands tangle my hair. “You’re right. Let’s get back in the car.”

I chuckle. “Do I always have to be the voice of reason?”

She yanks my head back, her annoyed look lit only by the parking lot lights. “Do you always have to be the party pooper?”

At her remark, I cinch the waist of the sweats and tie them as tightly as I can. “I’m not a party pooper,” I tell her, standing and turning around so my back is to her front. “I’m selfish.” I reach back for her hands.

“You’re far from selfish,” she says, placing her hands in mine and not stopping to ask why. She’s always had complete trust in me.

Bending down, I offer her my back. She’s done this plenty of times but never have I given her a piggyback ride to keep her pants up. She drops my hands and jumps, so I can reach around and hitch her up farther.

“You want to know how selfish I am?” I ask, standing up straight. “I loathe even sharing your body with the light.”

She hesitates and then her hands clasp around my chest while her head comes down to rest on my shoulder. “You’re jealous of light?” she whispers, the warmth of her breath tickling my ear.

“Even of the fireflies.”

Her breath hitches before I feel her lips press against my cheek and she rasps out, “Don’t say things like that.”

I know what she’s talking about.

“No hope, remember?”

I nod. “I remember.” Even if I don’t want to. No matter what happens this summer, it won’t end well for us. We might have a fairy-tale kind of love, but our ending is one of tragedy.

“Hold tight,” I tell her, clearing my throat. “I need to lock the doors.”

Her head nods against my neck, but it lacks the enthusiasm it had seconds ago. I find the keys and lock the door quickly. “You ready?” I reach around and grab the backs of her legs.

“I’m ready.” Her voice is shaky, and I’d do anything to get back carefree Aspen.

I bounce her up and down like I would do one of Hayes’s girls. “You sure?”

She laughs and tightens her hold across my chest. As soon as I’m sure she won’t fall, I take off running, her laughter a welcome distraction from her center bouncing up and down on my back.

“Buggy,” she screams when I run past the rack.

“Nope,” I tell her. “We’ll come back when you’re dressed more appropriately. Right now, we’re just getting what we need to keep you from withering away.”

She smacks my shoulder, but it’s playful.

“You think you can hold on to meandthe groceries?” I tease.

Her grip tightens. “I got us, BJ.”

I shake my head at her calling me BJ. She only does it to get on my nerves. My brother used to tease me that my initials were the same as blow job, something I had no experience with until tonight.

The sliding glass door opens, and the cool air hits us. “Where to, boss?” I give Aspen a little jostle. “What’s on that list of yours?”

Honestly, I don’t care what we eat, but now that she’s feeling overly concerned with my carb intake, I’m going to go along with whatever she wants me to eat. It’s easier that way.

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