As Long As You Love Me. Ann Aguirre
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“I should get going,” I said. “My mom’s waiting for the milk and eggs.”
Clearly, I should win a prize for clever comments. But Rob nodded like I didn’t sound like a sixteen-year-old dipshit with a specialization in being weird around boys. Which was so messed up; at school, the one damn thing I excelled at was witty banter, making guys laugh. I was fucking popular at Mount Albion.
“You doing anything tonight?” he asked.
Huh? Somehow I managed not to let my jaw drop open. “Not really. I just got unpacked and most of my friends from high school are gone.”
“Avery’s visiting her cousin in Omaha this weekend, so I thought maybe you want to split a pizza. I don’t feel like cooking.”
Wow. This is definitely not a date.
“Sounds good,” I said. “What time?”
“Five-thirty?”
“Sure. You remember where I live?” He’d driven me home a few times when Nadia called him to rescue us from out-of-control parties, but I didn’t imagine those occasions made much impression on him.
To my surprise, he nodded. “Out on Dover Road still, right?”
“Yep, that’s the place.” With a friendly wave, I pulled my basket past him and went to the checkout lane.
I kept the excitement in check until I got into my car, then I full-out screamed. My favorite high school memory involved Rob pulling up at a farmhouse, drunken teenagers all over the yard. I’d stumbled outside with a guy who was wasted enough that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. The dude pushed me against the garage, his mouth loose and wet on my neck, while I shuddered and shoved at him. In the next instant, he wasn’t touching me anymore. Rob yanked him off and took him out with one punch. Then he put a gentle hand on my shoulder and helped me to the car. He’d always protected me like a little sister, but I responded to it differently than Nadia. She was impatient over his protective streak, sharp and annoyed, while I wanted to make out with him instead of the high school boys on offer. I’d spied on him kissing his girlfriend, and it fueled my fantasies for, like, two years.
Telling myself not to be stupid, I drove home and put away the groceries. My mom was getting ready for a date, which proved I was right about Mr. Handyman. I propped myself in the doorway to the bathroom and watched her put on lipstick.
“So when do I get to meet him?”
She flushed. “You don’t mind?”
“Of course not. It’s good to see you happy.”
“There’s leftovers in the fridge—”
“Don’t worry about it. Rob’s picking me up in an hour.”
“Nadia’s brother?” Her brows shot up. “Isn’t he dating that awful Jacobs girl?”
Sharon didn’t have much of an upper class, but Avery Jacobs definitely belonged to it; she wore nothing but name brands and had a driver who made sure she never rode the bus. In school, her nose had been so far in the air, it was a wonder she didn’t drown during a rainstorm. Nadia had been friends with her when we were younger, but I never was, and I liked Avery less when she ditched Nadia as soon as the cliques formed in junior high.
“She’s out of town, and it’s just pizza. He probably feels sorry for me, what with my mom having a better social life and all.” I grinned to show I was teasing.
She threw a cotton ball at me. “That’s not funny. If you knew how long I waffled over telling you about Stuart...”
“So that’s his name.”
“He sells insurance,” Mom said. “You’d think that makes him boring, but he’s very sweet.”
“No need to convince me. I need a shower, though, if you’re almost done in there.”
“No problem. I can finish my makeup in the kitchen.”
Damn. She’s pulling out all the stops.
Though it wasn’t a date, I did the same. An hour later, I had on my best jeans, a blue sweater that framed my boobs perfectly, plus my favorite leather jacket. I also did my eyes to full bam, straightened my hair and put on awesome knee boots. Rob pulled into the driveway right on time, so I yelled bye to my mom and bounded down the steps. He drove a newish red pickup, though I wasn’t into vehicles enough to be sure of the make or model.
He was still in blue flannel, but I’d expected no less. As he had when I was a drunken senior, he went around to open my door. There were no running boards, and I was short, almost a full foot smaller than him; before I could clamber up, he set his hands on my waist and lifted, setting me on the passenger seat with the sort of casual strength that stole my breath.
“Wait, sorry, I should’ve asked before manhandling you.” He seemed dead serious, worried that he’d offended.
“It’s fine.” Or it would be if these shivers would stop. I could still feel the imprint of his hands at my waist.
“You’re not as touchy as Avery,” he said as he climbed in. “I haven’t done a single thing right for her in the last month.”
Maybe she’s not the right person for you. But if I said that, it would definitely come from an ulterior motive, because I’d be hard-pressed not to follow with, Maybe you should get naked with me instead. Then I’d die from the startled, awkward silence that followed. At worst, this was pity pizza; at best, it might be better-than-eating-alone pizza.
“Is something bothering her?” I asked, more curious than I cared to admit.
He paused, his expression clouding. “Seems like it, but I can’t get her to tell me.”
Since I wasn’t the confiding type, I understood her reticence. Which sort of pissed me off. I didn’t want to empathize with Avery. “Maybe she’s afraid you’ll think less of her if she whines to you about her problems?”
“I need to tell her that’s not true.” He let out a slow breath, obviously relieved at hearing there might be a simple solution.
“Anyway, there’s nothing to be tetchy about,” I said. “I’m vertically challenged, you helped me out. It’s all good.”
That won me a smile that simultaneously brightened his eyes and crinkled them at the corners. He jogged around the truck and climbed in, stretching his arm across the back of the seats to back out of my driveway. There was essentially no traffic, so we zoomed straight to Pizza Hut. The restaurant was nearly full, mostly families and a few high school students; we were lucky to snag a two-person booth tucked in the corner back near the bathrooms. When I was in high school, it was a huge deal when they installed the tiny salad bar here.
“So what do you like?” he asked, not bothering to open the menu.
You would’ve been the obvious answer, but I hadn’t come back to Sharon to let my first crush swell back into unmanageable proportions. So I replied, “Lots of meat.”
That was apparently the best news he’d had all day. Rob gazed at me as if I’d said he was the sexiest man on earth. “Meat lovers it is. Should we get salad, too?”
I grinned. “Should and will are wildly different. I’m living dangerously tonight.”
“The training wheels are coming off, huh?” He was smiling; the faint sorrow I’d noted at the supermarket seemed to have dissipated.
For a few seconds, I forgot who he was and answered with a flirty glance and a half smile. “Oh, they’ve been off. You have no idea how well I ride these days.”
Shock made him drop his straw as I fought the urge to bang my head on the table. Then he surprised me by laughing softly. “You had me going. Well played, Lauren.”
That’s me, a laugh riot. Send in the clowns. Oh,