I grin. “Final grades for the class were posted this morning on the online portal. My barely passing, overall grade obviously isn’t set in stone anymore with my now-tentative zero for the lab final, but for the lecture final I got a B plus.”
Shock and excitement light her eyes again. “No way!”
“What can I say?” I shrug casually, taking a sip of my soda, smirking around the straw. “I got a kickass tutor.”
With an excited little squeak, she stands and slides into my side of the booth, and wraps her arms around my neck. “I’m so proud of you!”
I wrap my arm around her waist, hugging her back. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” I whisper sincerely into her hair.
Leaning back, I capture her lips with mine, kissing her briefly. I grab her plate and drink from the other side of the table and slide them over in front of her, not wanting her to leave my side of the booth.
She settles in next to me, my arm draped around her shoulders as I watch her pick up her phone and log into her student portal to check out her final grade. No surprise, she finished the class with an A+.
“Great job,” I say, kissing the top of her head.
“So, wait.” She pauses, looking over at me expectantly. “Since we both got the grades we agreed to for the bet, does that mean we’re going to Florida?”
Shit.
I completely forgot about that.
As much as I don’t want to go to Florida, a bet is a bet. And the look on her face, the hope and excitement in her eyes—I’d be a complete dick if I told her no and went back on my word.
I sigh, forcing myself to smile despite the unsettling feeling in my stomach. “I guess so. Pack your bags, Finch, it looks like we’re going to Florida.”
And just like that, the smile on her face makes it worth it.
Maybe going back won’t be so bad with her. It’ll be nice to have a little getaway and see her experience the beach for the first time, something I know she’s excited about. I think I can manage to set aside my bad memories and make new, better ones with her.
“But first I have to pass the lab final. Think we can squeeze in a quick study session before two?” I ask, my grin sharp as I waggle my eyebrows suggestively. “A little anatomy refresher with you would really do me some good.”
Her cheeks burn red at my innuendo, and she swats me in my chest with the back of her hand.
I just laugh, leaning over to kiss the side of her head. “I’ll take that as a maybe,” I tease.
Thirty-eight
Red Light
I shift in the driver’s seat, trying my best to get comfortable, my ass numb and body stiff from the five-hour drive. I blink a few times and reach for the coffee in the cup holder, gulping down the remaining cold contents. Olivia offered to drive for a while, but I refused, letting her rest since we woke up at the crack of dawn to leave.
Glancing to my right, I catch a glimpse of her curled up adorably in the passenger seat, her long hair slicked back into a ponytail, revealing the side of her face that isn’t pressed to the window. Her elbow is planted on the door, her fist under her chin as her dark lashes rest against her cheeks. She tried her best to stay awake for my sake, but the blur of the scenery passing by won, lulling her to sleep.
We left her house early this morning, the day after Christmas, to head to Florida and get there just before noon, to enjoy as much sun as possible. We ended up taking her car because no way were we making the drive on my motorcycle, especially at this time of year.
Christmas just so happened to fall on the Wednesday right after finals, and I spent the holiday with her and her family instead of locked up in my dorm like previous years. Just like Thanksgiving, spending the holiday with her family was amazing. It was literally perfect, like something straight out of one of those cheesy family Christmas movies.
I glance down at the dash and notice the needle of the gas gauge flirting with the largeE, telling me we need to stop for gas.And to stretch, I think as I shift in my seat for the umpteenth time, feeling a twinge of pain in my lower back.
I drive until I find a decent enough gas station, then pull in and fill the tank. Locking the car doors with Olivia still asleep inside, I jog inside the small gas station to grab us some drinks and snacks, and on my way to the cash register I pass the cheap liquor section and grab a bottle of the nicest wine they have, which is less than ten dollars, if that says anything. Thankfully, I don’t think Olivia drinks often, if ever, so hopefully she won’t notice the low-end bottle. I just want to make tonight and this little vacation special.
Since last week, aka the best night of my life, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Olivia and how perfect that night was. But despite it being perfect, it was far from romantic. I can’t help but think about how she deserves more, and I want to give her more. The best. She deserves flowers, candles, wine, and a decently sized bed, and I’ll be damned if I don’t give her at least that much. I want—need—to show her how much she means to me and how much that night meant to me too. I’m determined to make our second time beyond perfect.
I walk up to the register and the man behind the counter looks zoned out, a far-off look in his eyes. He’s tall, rail thin, disheveled, and the scabs on his arms are a telltale sign that he’s a total drug addict.
I set my things down on the counter with athudto grab his attention. His blank eyes slowly find mine and wordlessly, mechanically, he starts scanning my items.
“ID,” he asks after scanning the wine, and I’m honestly surprised he bothered to ask.
