Page 69 of Late Bloomer
“What was that for?” she asks, eyes closed and breathing still jagged.
“For your first decent flirting line,” I say, dragging my lips against hers again. “I’m very impressed. Quick learners get rewarded.”
Pepper laughs, opening her eyes just so I can watch her roll them.
“You’re the worst,” she says, pulling away and pressing her cheek to the fogged window.
“An absolutemonster,” I agree with a grin, putting the car in drive and continuing along the road.
A few minutes later, I pull into the gravel driveway, following the end of the path until we reach the squat cabin, golden light glowing from a few windows.
Night has firmly settled in for the evening, cool and inky black, thousands of stars visible in this slice of the mountains. I cut the engine, the sound of cicadas humming in the darkness.
The moment tiptoes from comfortable to awkward as we continue to sit there, both suddenly shy as the possibilities of what can happen inside crook a finger and beckon us in. I’m about to say something to break the growing tension, but Pepper steals all words from my mouth, reaching out and taking my hand, braiding our fingers together.
The gesture is so soft and comfortable, my throat constricts and something sharp pokes at my eyes.
“Tonight was really fun,” she whispers, eyes fixed on our hands. “Thank you for getting me off the farm to clear my head. I needed it.”
“My pleasure,” I murmur, leaning over the center console and brushing my lips against her cheek, her jaw. She turns, seeking out a kiss, mouth sure and strong as she leans into me.
We continue kissing, squirming until we’re pressed together, fingers tangled in each other’s hair. I send up a silent prayer that none of mine breaks off in her hands.
Pepper kisses me in a way I never knew I needed to be kissed. She’s a little clumsy, a lot enthusiastic, lips silky smooth and tongue hot as she explores my mouth.
She kisses like she needs me.
It rewires my circuits, every nerve sparking at her touch, every pulse point beating in a rhythm of want.
And I kiss her back like I need her.
“Should we go inside?” I ask, nipping at her lip. “The night doesn’t have to be over.”
I feel her smile stretch against mine. “Yeah. Okay,” she whispers. “I can afford to stop stressing for a few more hours. But come morning, it’ll be full force. I’m giving you fair warning.”
I chuckle, but something twinges in my chest. I look into her gingerbread eyes, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Right. Why worry today when you can bottle it up until tomorrow?”
“Maybe I could avoid worrying altogether if we forget the competition idea,” she whispers, scrunching up her nose.
I pull back. “What?”
Pepper shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it, and while it’s a nice idea in theory, maybe I was too rash with deciding to do it.”
“Rash? You sat on the idea forever. I’ve never seen someone less rash.”
Pepper’s eyebrows furrow, but she waves a flippant hand at me. “I don’t think you get what a huge commitment this will be. Resources, product, time, investment in materials—”
“I get it, Pepper. It’s going to be a lot. That’s why I offered to help you.”
“Why are you getting so mad?” she says, color rising on hercheeks. It’s not the soft, rosy color of desire from before. This is deep red. Angry.
“You’re just being so wishy-washy,” I yell, throwing my hands in the air. “It’s frustrating.”
“Why do you even care?” she yells back. “It’s not like any of this really impacts you in the long run, does it? You’ll get your money or you’ll kick me to the curb. It’s not like you’re invested, so who are you to question my decisions?”
Embarrassment slices through me like a knife. I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to find something—anything—to say. But she’s right. I don’t necessarily have skin in the game. It shouldn’t bother me one fucking bit if Pepper goes back and forth on the decision for the rest of her life. But this thing—us working together, trying together—it’s something I canofferher. My art is one of the few things I’m good at. I’ve disrupted and destabilized her entire life with my impulsive decision to buy this place; the least I can do is try to help her. But she’s taking that chance away.
“What are you so afraid of, Pepper?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, pinning her with my glare.
