Page 16 of Take Me
“Don’t look,” I tell him, which of course makes him look.
“Fuck,” he mutters as Annabelle’s car slows near the parking lot entrance.
“Call me crazy,” I murmur.“But two people who’ve been greasing the loaf pan would probably not say goodbye like twelve-year-olds at the bike rack.”
I watch him track Annabelle in his periphery.“Now what?”
“You’re asking me?She’syourex.”
Mason winces and I feel like hell.Not to split hairs, but I’m guessing Annabelle wouldn’t agree she’d ever been Mason’s girlfriend.Friend-with-benefitsmaybe, but girlfriend?Not likely.
“Wait.”I can’t believe I’m about to suggest this.“I have an idea.”
“Let’s hear it.”
It’s completely nuts.And impulsive and wild and maybe a little bit weird.He’s my buddy, my pal, the guy who helped trim my toenails the summer I broke both my wrists falling out of his treehouse.
That’s the last thought I have as I hook my hand behind his neck, dragging him down for a kiss.
Chapter3
Mason
Erika’s kissing me.
That thought lasts one-tenth of a second.
It’s followed by another, more perplexing than any I’ve had since I set this fake-dating plan in motion.
I’m kissing Erika.
That thought takes over, just like I do.My arms wrap around her and I’m easing her back on the side of my truck.Her body surprises me, soft and yielding against my chest like we’ve done this dozens of times instead of...well, never.
Soft lips press mine as my tongue sweeps into her mouth.She’s sweet like the berries we picked in the forest as kids, but the sound she just made is one-hundred percent adult.
“Mason.”
A moan rumbles out of her as her hands cup the back of my head.There’s an instant I think she’s prying me off her, but no.Her tongue grazes mine as she grinds her sweet heat on the swell in my jeans.
Holy shit.
How is this the same girl who taught me to skateboard?Or the first time I’m tasting the fiery-hot bliss of her mouth?Or feeling the power in her hands as they roll down my back, clutching me tighter as the kiss just keeps going and going.I’m threading my fingers through her hair as the other hand glides up her side to graze the soft swell of her?—
“Hey, Mason.”
I jerk back at Annabelle’s voice.What the hell just happened?
Erika recovers before I do.“Annabelle, hey.”Dragging a hand over her mouth, she peers at the yellow Volkswagen.“Didn’t see you there.Is everything okay?”
“Sorry to interrupt.”Annabelle has her window rolled down and she shoots me a sheepish look.“Good for you guys, by the way.”
“Uh, yeah.”I sound like an idiot.“What’s up?”
“I’m so glad I saw you.”She smiles, and I hate how my insides churn.“You know how you always said you’d get a dog when you met the weirdest-looking crossbreed of mutt you could imagine?Like a Yorkie/Rottweiler mix or a chiweenie or something?”
“Ch...weenie.”I fumble the word, shifting my body so Erika’s standing in front of me.My obvious hard-on isn’t going away, and the damn thing could get me arrested.
“Right,” Annabelle continues, undaunted.“I don’t have a chiweenie for you.”She pauses to explain for Erika’s benefit.“A chiweenie is a chihuahua/wiener dog cross, by the way.”
