"That’s where I’m headed.”
Her eyebrows lift. "Really?"
"Yeah. What a coincidence."
She lets out a nervous little laugh and glances down, brushing her thumb along the edge of her brown clutch, fiddling with the gold buckle. “This town is already starting to feel small.”
I can’t stop looking at her.
At the way her long hair whisks around her shoulders. I’ve seen this woman nearly naked, and somehow, this outfit is worse. Or better.And suddenly I’m very aware of the fact that she lives just down the hall. For once, it sure would be nice to see her in a pair of nasty pajamas.
"It sure does feel small," I murmur. "Do you… want to share a ride?"
Her gaze flicks up to meet mine, soft and hesitant. "Only if you don’t mind. Since we’re going to the same place."
"I don’t mind."
A small pause.
Then a nod. "Great."
"I’ll order the car," I say, reaching for my phone, trying to keep my hands from freaking out.
Poppy watches several seconds, eyes trained on my fingers before glancing away, the quiet between us is so awkward but in reality, we're just two people going to the same place.
Two roommates hanging out!
The Uber arrives three minutes later and we both groan when a tiny, black eco-friendly compact car pulls up to the housethat looks as if it were designed by someone who’snevermet a tall person.
Fanfuckingtastic.
Poppy hesitates when the driver leans over the seat to confirm my identity, giving us a smile when I pull open the back passenger door.
“This doesn’t look very roomy,” Poppy mumbles. “It’s like a tin can.”
Indeed it does look like a tin can.
If we get clipped before we reach our destination, we’re toast. Done. Chopped liver.
I gesture for her to climb in. “Ladies first.”
She slides in as far as she can scoot—which isn’t far—and fumbles for the seatbelt. The buckle clinks, metal scraping plastic, but the strap’s twisted behind her. She tugs again, brows furrowing, then glances at me with a bemused smile.
“It’s stuck.”
I lean in automatically. “Here, let me?—”
My hand brushes hers as I reach around her side to untwist the belt, and the second our fingers touch, my whole body locks up. Her perfume hits me, something soft and sweet, and it’s game over.
The space is too tight.
My thigh’s pressed to hers. Her hip bumps mine. We’re packed in like sardines and there’s nowhere to go, no room to breathe, no safe place to look.
Thus, I keep my hands in my lap, fingers curled into my palms, staring at the back of the driver, boring holes into his head, willing him to drive faster.
Faster.
Faster.
