The Virgin’s Guide to Misbehaving (Bluebonnet #4)(24)
Author: Jessica Clare

But all her fears were for nothing—they pulled into the parking lot and it was empty. Rome parked in the last space at the far end and grinned back at her as he turned his bike off. “Saturday night. Everyone’s out but us.”

Good, she thought.

He helped her off the bike, handed her the now-flattened bag of sandwiches, and then undid the chin strap on the helmet for her, removing it and placing the helmet back on the bike. Then it was just her and him, and she stared up at him mutely, unsure what to do next.

Rome solved that problem for her. He took the bag from her hands and leaned in to give her the barest brush of a kiss over her mouth. “I’ll get that for you.”

She let him take it from her numb hands, thinking about that quick, easy kiss as they walked one of the small trails to his cabin.

He had one of the smaller ones, she’d noticed before, and it was set squarely in the midst of the others, between Pop’s cabin and Grant’s larger cabin-slash-house. It was the sight of Grant’s cabin that made her hurry to walk a little faster, just in case someone emerged from there, even though she knew no one was home. She was still a chicken, really, when it came down to things.

He opened the door to the cabin and let her go in first, and Elise studied his small home anew as she stepped inside. There was a single lamp lit by the bedside table, and his bed—a full—only had one pillow. A quilt that she’d seen tossed over the back of one of the lodge couches covered his bed, and nothing hung on the walls. No pictures, no posters, nothing. He had a small counter in the back of his cabin, and next to a sink was a mini fridge.There were two doors in the cabin—one to a closet and one to a bathroom. Directly across from the bed there was a small nightstand, and a tiny TV-DVD combo sat on top of it.

There were no chairs. How had she forgotten that? Where were they going to sit when they watched the movie and ate? She glanced at the bed and blushed, realizing that they’d probably both have to sit there.

“You want a beer?” Rome headed to the back of the cabin and placed the bag of food on the counter, then reached into the mini fridge to pull out a cold beer. He turned and held it out to her, and she saw that he’d picked her favorite brand, the kind she drank that night during the storm.

“Thanks,” she murmured, twisting the lid off and taking a sip. She only tasted it, though. It seemed like she was constantly getting drunk around him, wasn’t she? If this kept up, she’d be an alcoholic before she lost her virginity.

He opened a beer for himself, took a long pull, and then set it down on one of the nightstands. “You want to eat now or watch the movie now?”

“We could do both at once, I guess?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He popped open a DVD case and slid a disc into the TV, then flicked it on. “Sorry the TV’s so small. I didn’t have one, so I borrowed this one from Pop.”

“It’s fine.” She didn’t care about the screen size.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, a grin on his face. “I hope you’re in the mood for a classic.”

“Classic?”

“Lethal Weapon. I thought it’d be fun. You like it?”

“Never seen it.”

His eyes widened as if she’d said something shocking. “Well, consider this part of your education.”

They got sandwiches and chips to go with the beer, and Elise deliberately trailed a step or two behind Rome, waiting to see where he sat. When he sat down on the left side of the bed and leaned back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him, she did the same, but on the right side. The pillow lay sandwiched between them like an armrest, but she didn’t touch it. She was too nervous.

This was the first time she’d ever sat on a guy’s bed and watched a movie. Again, she felt like an awkward teenager. She took slow, methodical bites of her sandwich, her gaze glued to the tiny screen as she ate. She was barely paying attention to the movie. Instead, she was attuned to everything Rome did. His body was relaxed and casual on his side of the bed, legs stretched out. He ate with gusto, devouring his sandwich and chips in a matter of minutes, whereas she picked at her food and barely sipped her beer. He chuckled at the movie now and then, which inspired her to make a token attempt at laughing, as well, so he wouldn’t realize she was paying more attention to the way his foot twitched when he laughed than what was going on on-screen.

“You not going to eat your chips?” he asked at some point, when she was only halfway through her sandwich.

She shook her head and mutely offered him the bag, which he took with a smile of gratitude that made her heart flutter in her chest. She’d have passed him her sandwich, too, if he’d simply smile at her again.

But eventually the food was gone and Elise wiped her hands with a napkin, unsure of what to do with herself now.

Rome kept watching the screen, but he pulled one leg in and leaned forward, unlacing his shoes and then dropping them on the ground next to the bed. Then, he glanced over at her. “You want to take your shoes off? Get a little more comfy?”

“Okay.” She kicked her sneakers off, wiggling her bare toes as she put her legs back on the bed.

He glanced over at her feet. “Cute toes.”

She blushed and looked over at his feet. His socks looked worn and a bit threadbare, and she was pretty sure one toe was about to pop through the fabric. “Cute socks.”

He snorted. “They’re on my list of things to buy on payday.” And he slid an arm around her shoulder and dragged her against him, ever so casually.

Elise stiffened in surprise, her cheek resting on his shoulder. The pillow was still sandwiched between them, pressing against her stomach, but the rest of her was cuddled against him and his arm lay over her shoulders like a blanket. She felt his fingers twitch against her sweater, and then his hand pulled on her long braid. As she watched, his fingers tugged at the band holding the end and then he pulled it off. Her hair immediately cascaded free, and he began to stroke and drag his fingers through the length.

“That’s better,” he murmured, “don’t you think?”

She didn’t respond; she couldn’t. All the words—and air—had been sucked out of her body. Instead, she was acutely aware of the feel of his body against hers, the scent of him, the heat of his skin. She didn’t know where to put her hands. One was trapped against the pillow, but the other was in no-man’s-land. After a moment of indecision, she placed it against his stomach.