Chapter 22 "So do you still think Brooks has main-character energy?" Astrid asks. "Because I'm starting to think it might be main-villain energy." I sling open the passenger's side door of my truck with a bit more force than necessary. "Yes. Main character. But he's the main character who wants to die in this chapter." She bursts out laughing as she climbs into the cab and gets settled. I swing the door shut and move around the front to the driver's side. I almost kissed Astrid Lawsen. Fuck. Her soft cheeks were in my hands. Her gorgeous body was pressed close to mine. I've never seen a set of eyes that were so clearly saying yes. And then Brooks had to act like he was twelve years old. What the actual fuck? This is the first exchange we've shared since I led her away from the bandstand. My emotions were running high, and I didn't want to fuck up and inadvertently snap at her. So I chose to say nothing at all-at least until I could talk myself off the ledge. I don't know what the hell Brooks was up to tonight. He wasn't being malicious; there's no chance of that. But whatever sideways thing that sprang to life inside his head was born from a brain that's been punched too many times. My hands ball into fists at my side as I slow my pace and take a long, deep breath. I also don't know where Astrid and I go from here. I'm not even sure where she wants to go from this point. Desires and intentions have been put into the universe, and now they must be dealt with. But it's not like Astrid is just another girl who I nearly kissed. It's her. She's my coworker and practically my boss. Although I'd never admit that thought to her. I climb into my seat and start the engine. Stretching my arm along the back of her seat and getting a whiff of her perfume in the process, I back out into the street. She sits quietly, not saying a word until I put the truck in drive. "Is this a good time to bring up the fact that we brought Hartley?" she asks. "Are you always in work mode?" I grin at her. "Sometimes you can let other people figure their shit out, you know." "Oh no. Not me. If I see a situation unfolding and it looks like chaos, I need to clean it up. Put things in order. And the fact that we just left your brother miles from his house without even letting him know really disturbs me in the greatest way." I chuckle. "Well, let me clue you in on a little fact. Hartley knows every person at the fair, so I have the utmost confidence that my little brother can figure out how to get home. Further, I wouldn't be surprised if Hartley's already home, in bed, with his eyes closed." Astrid eyes me skeptically. "Hartley staying out late is like you letting someone else be in control." She scoffs. "While I understand that analogy, I'm sort of offended by it." "Good for you." I stop at a sign and wait for a family to cross the street with their dog in tow. "So did you have fun at the fair?" "That's what you want to talk about?" I shrug, looking at her puzzled. "What do you mean? I feel like that's a reasonable, polite question to ask." "Okay. Fine." She cocks her head to the side, mocking me. "Yes, Gray. I had such a lovely time at the Sugar County Fair. Your friends are so kind, except for Brooks, and I feel blessed to have experienced the local brew even though it tasted like warm kangaroo piss." "Did you just say warm kangaroo piss?" She sits back as I press the gas again but doesn't answer me. "How in the hell do you know what warm kangaroo piss tastes like?" I ask, laughing. "And you were worried about rabbit shit giving you rabies. It sounds like you need to worry about something else." Astrid sighs. "It was an expression. You know what I mean. But in all seriousness, yes. I did have a nice time at the fair. It was ... cozy. I'm not a hug lover by any stretch of the imagination, but it felt like a warm hug in an unobnoxious way." I bite my lip to keep from laughing and flip on my turn signal. I'd love to know what's causing Astrid to be so talkative tonight. I was afraid she'd clam up at the fair and not want to talk to anyone, but that wasn't the case at all. She and Hartley spoke for quite a while. Brooks obviously engaged with her, the fucking dickhead. And I saw her laughing with Jasper and Meadow earlier in the evening. Is it the alcohol? The fresh air? Is she just nervous? Does she want fucked? "Did you know that I've been to three festival-type situations in my life?" she asks. "No, I didn't know that. And while I don't know the average number of fairs that people visit, I feel like that's on the low end." "I went to one when I was six. I still have the glass bottle I filled with colored sand. Then I went with Gianna's family when I was thirteen or fourteen to a fair in Kentucky. Audrey and I went to the state fair here a couple of years ago for a concert." "I've been to more than I care to remember," I say, turning onto a gravel road. I discreetly reach down and adjust myself without her knowing. "Sugar County has this one in the spring, and then the town of Sugar Creek has one in the fall. We'd go to a few other local ones around, too. Dad loved nothing more than a good corn dog and throwing darts at balloons." She grins. "This sounds like a celebratory community." "You could say that." "I wish I could," she says, a taunt thinly veiled in her tone. "I was hoping to have a firsthand account of fireworks tonight, if you catch my drift." My body tenses, every muscle growing so tight that I nearly wince. Is she serious right now? Because I can make that happen. I groan. God, I'd love to make that happen. I've only gotten a glimpse of her body through her clothes and the top of her tits in her shirt, and that's enough to make me want to blow my load. Creamy skin that looks soft and smooth. Deep curves from her waist to her hips that would fit my hands perfectly. I can imagine her juicy ass bouncing on my dick while my name kisses her pouty lips. Fucking hell. I ease the accelerator and take a quick look at her to decipher her intentions. There's a chance, a decent one, that I'm reading too much into this-that I'm seeing things how I want to see them and not how they really are. If that's true, the last thing I want to do is put her in an uncomfortable position. I just need to be sure. On the one hand, her forwardness fits her personality perfectly. Astrid loves to be in control. In her words, she needs it. By being the aggressor in this situation, she maintains her grip on the ship, so that makes absolute sense. But she also seems to have an aversion to personal connections with people. While sex can be impersonal, I'm not a random guy she picked up at the bar and will never see again. Does she mean what she's insinuating, or is she just playing me? "What do you think would've happened if I had kissed you back there?" I ask, gripping the steering wheel. "Is that the question you want to ask me?" "What do you mean?" She sighs. "I mean, do you want to know what I think would have happened if you kissed me? Or are you really wanting to know what I hoped would happen after that? Because there could potentially be two completely different answers to that, and I want to know which one you're looking for." This woman. I take a deep breath, ignoring the ache in my balls. "Are we taking the blanket off the baby?" "I was hoping we'd be taking more than that off by now, but you seem to be avoiding the topic." Easy, Adler. Easy. Few times in my life have I been given the green light by a gorgeous woman and not jumped on the opportunity. It's happened, but the instances are few and far between, so I need to make damn sure Astrid has thought this through. I know she has trust issues. I know how important her job is, and if she hasn't given this enough thought and weighed the potential outcomes, the last thing I'd want is for it to hurt her or her position with Renn. I can't let that happen. I won't. "Look, Gray, I'm not good at this," she says, her confidence slipping. "I'm not good at flirting. I'm not good with dealing with men at all unless I work with them." "You can say that again," I say. But so that she knows I'm joking, I reach out and give her thigh a quick squeeze. Unfortunately, I don't think about touching her before I do, and forcing myself to release her leg takes an effort worth a gold medal. The feeling of her in my palm sends a shot of heat directly to my cock. I have to sort this situation or get the hell away from her. Stat. I have ninety minutes with her in this truck, and right now, there's no way out. "All joking aside, you're doing a fine job dealing with men," I say. "Jasper couldn't take his eyes off you. Brooks would've fucked you tonight if he could've gotten away with it." Fucker. "And I'm at your mercy right now. I just want to make sure you're not making a decision you'll regret later." "These conversations are hard for me. I'm so awkward about things that have nothing to do with spreadsheets and emails. Basically, I'm socially inept, I think. I can order people around if I have my clipboard in hand, but without it, I never feel brave enough to go after what I want. No one would take me seriously if they knew that." "I think you're being too hard on yourself." "It seems like it's the only way to experience something hard tonight." I lick my lips, chuckling at her joke-mostly because I don't think she's joking. The road forms a Y, and I take the right arm. My tires hit gravel, sending a plume of dust around both sides of the truck. The headlights bounce as we hit potholes that have formed due to a lack of attention from the county. She sits quietly, but I can feel her energy bleeding off her. Nerves. Anticipation. Hope. She nibbles a fingernail and looks straight ahead. "I can't risk messing this up," I say, choosing my words carefully. "So I need you to tell me what you want. No jokes, no insinuations. Tell me what you want from me." Her cheeks flush. "I'm not trying to embarrass you," I insist. "If anything, I want to empower you. Ask me for what you want. Order me around like it's your job. You're exceptional at that." She grins. "Is that really what you want me to do?" "You're results-driven, and it would definitely get the results you're after." I smirk as her gaze drops to my lap, and she realizes just how prepared I am to make good on my promise. Her eyes widen at the sight of my cock straining against my pants. Each breath causes her chest to rise and fall dramatically, and it's all I have in me to keep the truck on the fucking road. Parted lips. Dilated pupils. Touching her collarbone with her fingers. Motherfucker. I hold the steering wheel tightly so that I don't accidentally reach for her. Knowing that she wants me even a fraction of how badly I want her is enough to drive me crazy. But like the saint I am not, I wait. "Okay," she says, sitting taller in the seat. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "You grew up here. You must know a spot we can go right now to fuck." She doesn't have to tell me twice. I slow down and turn the traction control off while piloting the truck to the side of the road. Then I crank the wheel and smash the gas, sending a rooster tail of gravel through the air as we spin in a one-eighty. Astrid grips the door handle with one hand and my bicep with the other. Her squeals turn into a fit of giggles as I let out of it a little bit, and the truck straightens out on the road. "Oh my God," she says, laughing as she drags her hand away from my arm. "What the hell are you doing?" "Taking you to get fucked." She falls back in her seat and exhales. "I can't hear you say that." "Why not?" "It's been a long time. I'm in a bit of a drought, and you're ... you." I hook a right onto a dirt road with branches hanging over it. "I'm going to take that as a compliment." "Good. Because I meant it as one." We travel into the pitch-black, far away from any streetlamps or porch lights. The lane gets bumpier the farther we get from the road, and the sky grows inkier and the stars more twinkly. Astrid grabs the door handle once again as I steer us off the road and onto the soft earth. "I'm taking a big risk here," she says. "You could just as easily take me into the middle of nowhere and kill me for all I know." "You must really trust me, huh?" She smiles. "Or I'm desperate. One or the other." The fact that it's been a long time since she's been with someone is mind-blowing, almost as mind-blowing as seeing her walk around town all night with my name splashed across her back. Astrid, the classy, intelligent, sexy-as-hell spitfire, garnered looks from every man in Sugar Creek and didn't give one of them the time of day ... except me. Kill me now. It's been months since I've had sex. If she wants to talk about desperate, I'm desperate. The truck's engine roars as we reach our destination-the top of the highest hill around with a view for miles. Thanks to the bright moon hanging overhead, the view isn't totally lost on Astrid. "Oh wow," she says, unbuckling herself. "Look at this. It's the country version of the view from Renn's office." I turn off the truck and smile at her sense of awe. "Are you sure that no one will call the police on us for being up here?" she asks. "Can't you live on the dark side and not follow the rules just once?" She frowns, her lips pressing together in the cutest little pout. "I'm kidding," I say. "No one's going to call the police. I promise." "How do you know?" I shake my head and climb out of the truck. "I know because the only person who'd call the cops is probably at home and in bed right now. But even that's a mile or a mile and a quarter away from here." I point across the treetops before opening the back door. "So I think we're safe." "This is a part of Hartley's property, isn't it?" "Yup." "You could've led with that," she says, watching me rummage through a bin in my back seat. "Where's the fun in that?" I tug the quilt Mom gave me when I turned sixteen from the bottom of the container. Along with our first set of keys, she gave Hartley and me quilts, first-aid kits, and an emergency whistle "just in case." We either kept it all in our vehicles, or we didn't drive. It's a habit that I have never broken. Astrid gets out of the truck as I'm opening the tailgate. The weather is warm with just a hint of crispness in the air now that the sun has gone down, and I hop into the bed and spread the quilt over the bottom. "This view is amazing," she says, staring up at the sky. "Look at how many stars there are. It's so pretty." When she turns back at me, she stills. "I can guarantee that my view right now is even prettier." I hold out my hand. "Come up here with me." She lays her hand in mine and places a foot on the small step by the tailgate, and I then hoist her up. We're eye to eye, chest to chest. Breaths ragged. Expectations high. Things just got very, very real.