Ruin Me
Page 19
“More rules?” I pout. “We already have a lot.”
She stares at my jutted out lip then nibbles her own. “I know but,” her gaze collides with mine, “it just seems like doing anything while we’re spending this much time together could end up being a disaster. Besides, it’s not Friday.”
“Yeah, but there’ll be a Friday in,” I look at the clock on the dashboard—nine-fourteen, “less than four days.”
“Jax,” she begs with her hands clasped in front of her, “please, please, pretty please don’t make things complicated.”
My pout deepens, but I surrender. I owe her that much for coming on this trip with me. “Fine, but only on two conditions. One, you don’t judge me based on anything you see during this trip.”
“I would never, ever judge you,” she says, shocked. “Besides, I already know how bad your mom is.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t seen the shithole I grew up in.”
“I’m sure it can’t be any worse than where I live now.”
I think about telling her right then that I’m moving into the same apartment complex as her. She couldn’t run away from me, either, not until we got home. But it seems like a dickhead move when she’s driving clear across the country with me.
“Just promise me.” I reach for my drink again.
“All right, I swear.”
“And two, you play a road game with me.”
“What kind of a road game?”
“How about the game of pull over the car and give me road head?” I suggest with an innocent shrug.
Her eyelids lower as she pinches my side. “Watch it, buddy. You’re breaking my new rule.”
I chuckle, rubbing the spot she pinched. “What? You said we couldn’t fool around, but perverted jokes are fair game. Besides, we’d get bored if we didn’t banter.”
She doesn’t argue. “We could play I Spy.”
“Or twenty questions.”
“No way. That game is too dangerous.”
“Why? What are you hiding Clara McKiney?”
“Nothing.” She averts her gaze to the backseat. “Hey, I forgot I bought gum.”
“Saved by the subject change,” I tease her as I reach for the iPod and skip to the next song. “How about if we play truth, but promise to keep the conversations light?”
She sits back in her seat with a stick of gum in her hand. “It still sounds kind of dangerous.”
I wiggle my brows at her. “Where’s your wild side?”
She unwraps the gum and pops it into her mouth. “I haven’t seen her in like three years,” she mutters. Her gaze travels to the back of the Jeep where the black vase is seat belted in, just in case we hit a bump or something. She suddenly squares her shoulders. “All right, let’s play truth. But let’s make it a lightning round. Make things interesting.” Her voice quivers as if she’s scaring herself.
“Are you sure?” I check. “Because we don’t even have to play a game if you don’t want to.”
“Favorite color?” she starts the game without missing a beat.
“Blue, but you already knew that.” I hurriedly think of a question. “Favorite food?”
“Pizza.” She points a finger at me. “You knew that already, too.”
“There’s too much pressure doing a lightning round,” I say at the same time she sputters, “Favorite sexual position?” She pulls a whoops face as she slaps her hand across her mouth.
“The Standing Wheelbarrow,” I answer with a grin. “I can’t believe you asked that question. You have such a dirty mind.”
“That was an accidental question,” she protests, lowering her hand to her lap. “And I’ve never heard of the position. I think you’re making it up. ”
“It’s not made up. And I’ll prove it to you one day.” I smirk when she fakes a scowl. “What’s your favorite position?”
She fidgets with a hem of her shorts. “I don’t know… um, doggie style.”
“Have you ever even done that position before?” I ask with an impish grin.
She shoves my shoulder, causing a slight swerve of the steering wheel. “Oh, shut up. You know I’m limited on my knowledge, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”
“Hey, easy, you’re going to make me crash.” I steady the wheel as I laugh. “So, have you?”
“It’s not your turn to ask a question,” she says, grinning. “Favorite car?”
“A 1969 GTO Judge,” I answer easily. “Now, have you ever done doggie style before?”
She huffs an irritated breath. “You’re relentless.”
“Yeah, so. Answer the question.”
She shakes her head. “No, I haven’t, okay.”
“Don’t worry, we can try that position one day, too.” I wink at her, trying to lighten the mood.
She rolls her eyes, but I notice she squeezes her legs together like she’s totally getting turned on. “Favorite dessert?”
“You covered in chocolate.”
She massages her temples with her fingers. “This game is already getting out of hand.”
“You’re the one who suggested doing a lightning round. I’m just doing what I’m supposed to and saying the first thing that pops into my head. I can’t help it if all of my thoughts are dirty.” I pause, giving her a chance to say something. When she doesn’t, I continue with my next question. “Favorite song?”
She stares at my jutted out lip then nibbles her own. “I know but,” her gaze collides with mine, “it just seems like doing anything while we’re spending this much time together could end up being a disaster. Besides, it’s not Friday.”
“Yeah, but there’ll be a Friday in,” I look at the clock on the dashboard—nine-fourteen, “less than four days.”
“Jax,” she begs with her hands clasped in front of her, “please, please, pretty please don’t make things complicated.”
My pout deepens, but I surrender. I owe her that much for coming on this trip with me. “Fine, but only on two conditions. One, you don’t judge me based on anything you see during this trip.”
“I would never, ever judge you,” she says, shocked. “Besides, I already know how bad your mom is.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t seen the shithole I grew up in.”
“I’m sure it can’t be any worse than where I live now.”
I think about telling her right then that I’m moving into the same apartment complex as her. She couldn’t run away from me, either, not until we got home. But it seems like a dickhead move when she’s driving clear across the country with me.
“Just promise me.” I reach for my drink again.
“All right, I swear.”
“And two, you play a road game with me.”
“What kind of a road game?”
“How about the game of pull over the car and give me road head?” I suggest with an innocent shrug.
Her eyelids lower as she pinches my side. “Watch it, buddy. You’re breaking my new rule.”
I chuckle, rubbing the spot she pinched. “What? You said we couldn’t fool around, but perverted jokes are fair game. Besides, we’d get bored if we didn’t banter.”
She doesn’t argue. “We could play I Spy.”
“Or twenty questions.”
“No way. That game is too dangerous.”
“Why? What are you hiding Clara McKiney?”
“Nothing.” She averts her gaze to the backseat. “Hey, I forgot I bought gum.”
“Saved by the subject change,” I tease her as I reach for the iPod and skip to the next song. “How about if we play truth, but promise to keep the conversations light?”
She sits back in her seat with a stick of gum in her hand. “It still sounds kind of dangerous.”
I wiggle my brows at her. “Where’s your wild side?”
She unwraps the gum and pops it into her mouth. “I haven’t seen her in like three years,” she mutters. Her gaze travels to the back of the Jeep where the black vase is seat belted in, just in case we hit a bump or something. She suddenly squares her shoulders. “All right, let’s play truth. But let’s make it a lightning round. Make things interesting.” Her voice quivers as if she’s scaring herself.
“Are you sure?” I check. “Because we don’t even have to play a game if you don’t want to.”
“Favorite color?” she starts the game without missing a beat.
“Blue, but you already knew that.” I hurriedly think of a question. “Favorite food?”
“Pizza.” She points a finger at me. “You knew that already, too.”
“There’s too much pressure doing a lightning round,” I say at the same time she sputters, “Favorite sexual position?” She pulls a whoops face as she slaps her hand across her mouth.
“The Standing Wheelbarrow,” I answer with a grin. “I can’t believe you asked that question. You have such a dirty mind.”
“That was an accidental question,” she protests, lowering her hand to her lap. “And I’ve never heard of the position. I think you’re making it up. ”
“It’s not made up. And I’ll prove it to you one day.” I smirk when she fakes a scowl. “What’s your favorite position?”
She fidgets with a hem of her shorts. “I don’t know… um, doggie style.”
“Have you ever even done that position before?” I ask with an impish grin.
She shoves my shoulder, causing a slight swerve of the steering wheel. “Oh, shut up. You know I’m limited on my knowledge, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”
“Hey, easy, you’re going to make me crash.” I steady the wheel as I laugh. “So, have you?”
“It’s not your turn to ask a question,” she says, grinning. “Favorite car?”
“A 1969 GTO Judge,” I answer easily. “Now, have you ever done doggie style before?”
She huffs an irritated breath. “You’re relentless.”
“Yeah, so. Answer the question.”
She shakes her head. “No, I haven’t, okay.”
“Don’t worry, we can try that position one day, too.” I wink at her, trying to lighten the mood.
She rolls her eyes, but I notice she squeezes her legs together like she’s totally getting turned on. “Favorite dessert?”
“You covered in chocolate.”
She massages her temples with her fingers. “This game is already getting out of hand.”
“You’re the one who suggested doing a lightning round. I’m just doing what I’m supposed to and saying the first thing that pops into my head. I can’t help it if all of my thoughts are dirty.” I pause, giving her a chance to say something. When she doesn’t, I continue with my next question. “Favorite song?”
