Page 32 of Spiral
Before I could reform the question, Craig’s demeanor shifted drastically from closed off to feral, and I whimpered when he pushed me against the car parked beside us and kissed me. It might have been to stop an awkward conversation, but it was a fierce, fiery kiss that spoke volumes, overflowing with all the tension and emotion he was holding back. The world narrowed down to the space where our bodies met, his tongue tangling with mine, hands gripping my jacket as if I were the only solid thing he could hold onto.
I scrambled for something to grip, laced my hands behind his head and melted into his touch. Making out in public was not something I’d done before. I’d always been reserved, cautious, calculating outcomes and potential pitfalls of discovery before I’d ever gotten to the point where people could see me. But with Craig, caution melted away under the heat of his touch. I was overwhelmed, hot as hell, and so present in the moment. Every nerve ending seemed to fire at once, every sound muffled except for the rush of my heartbeat.
As we finally broke apart, gasping for air, he seemed calmer, focused, smiling, his eyes wide, his lips damp from our kisses, and I’d forgotten there was an issue to begin with. Craig’s kiss had swept away all thoughts of exes, past hurts, and bathroom confrontations. It was only him and me, here and now, the cool metal of the car contrasting with the warmth of his body.
“I’ve never—” I started to say, breathless, still reeling from the intensity of the moment.
Craig rested his forehead against mine, a small smile playing on his lips as he caught his breath. “Neither have I,” he admitted, his eyes bright with a mix of mischief and something deeper, more honest than I’d seen in any man. I thought I’d loved Seanfor his brains and his achievements, but he was nothing beside the brilliance of the man cradling me against the car.
Standing in the dimly lit street, leaning on the car with Craig’s arms still around me, I felt so turned on I could have cried, and it was new, unexpected, and bloody intoxicating. Whatever fears or hesitations I had learned from exes like Sean about public displays of affection were trivial when I could be with someone like Craig. This was more than just physical attraction; it was a desperate need to be together.
“Wanna go for a drive?” he asked, then kissed me.
I hesitated, a little disappointed. Given how I was feeling at the moment, part of me had hoped we might head back to his place or perhaps get a bit adventurous right here in the car. But the offer to drive somewhere, to extend the night in another direction, was too sweet to decline. “Sure,” I replied, forcing a smile as I buckled up.
He fiddled with his playlist, setting it to a collection of soft jazz that filled the space with smooth saxophones and lazy bass lines, perfectly suiting the late-night mood, and then leaned over to kiss me.
“I wanted to take you home,” he admitted.
“Okay.”
He reached for my hand, and we laced our fingers, and he squeezed. “I want it to be right and I need to get my head straight.”
“I understand,” I said. I wished I didn’t—I wished I was selfish. Post-kiss, the expectation was electric, and I wanted more.
“Thank you,” he murmured, maneuvering the car onto the road. The soft jazz created a soothing backdrop, and I decided to lighten the mood with a story.
“You know, my dad used to drive me around at night to get me to sleep when I was a kid,” I began, watching the city lightsblur past. “He’d say it was the only way to keep me quiet for more than five minutes.”
Craig chuckled, glancing my way as he drove. “Did it work?”
“Like a charm.” I laughed. “But every once in a while, I’d pop my head up and ask him if we were there yet or demand another story. He’d sigh and say, ‘Please, Jameson, just go to sleep.’”
Craig’s laughter filled the car, a sound that made my heart skip. “I can imagine you being that kid,” he said, shaking his head.
“Hey, I was a very curious child,” I defended playfully, enjoying the ease of our banter.
He hummed to the music, which was so peaceful, but then he smiled at me. “So, Jamie is short for Jameson?”
I smiled, turning to look out of the window before answering, “Yeah, Jameson Hennessy. My dad thought it clever to match the whiskey with my last name.” The story always seemed to amuse people, and telling it now, in the intimacy of Craig’s car, felt right—like sharing a small, personal piece of myself.
Craig chuckled. “That’s cool.”
He turned into a parking area underneath a sign for the Mulholland Drive lookout, and the engine’s soft purr fell silent, the music stopping, and we were left with the quiet of the night.
“I love it here,” he said. We stepped out, and the view was breathtaking. The city below us was a tapestry of lights and colors, vibrant even at night, alive in a way only Los Angeles can be. The lookout was peaceful, and we leaned against the car, our shoulders touching, and stared at the view. I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect end to the evening, standing with Craig, high above the sprawling city, feeling like the only two people in the world.
The night air was cool, sweeping over us as we leaned against the railing, focusing on the glittering expanse of Los Angeles. Ribbons of streetlights threaded through the darkness, and thecity lights blurred into one. Above, the sky was a deep velvet blue, largely obscured by the city’s luminescence, yet a few stubborn stars twinkled faintly. Craig tugged me into his side and then tucked his head into my neck. He was exactly the right height for me and perfectly fit in my arms.
Craig’s voice broke through the calm, pulling me back from my reverie. “Sorry, I messed up tonight,” he murmured.
“You didn’t. I have a shitty ex as well, you know,” I found myself saying, the cool night breeze carrying my words and regretting saying them immediately. “Shit. Sorry. Not that my shitty ex is any worse than what I assume yours was, I’m not saying that. I’m sorry.”
“You love apologizing.”
“It’s a thing.” I smirked and then shrugged.
“Tell me about your shitty ex,” Craig murmured, nuzzling my throat. I could get used to having him in my arms.
