Page 42 of Whiskey & Honey

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Page 42 of Whiskey & Honey

The moment we got in the truck I offered Piper my coat. It’s fall and the temperature is far from bathing suit top friendly. Gladly accepting the coat, Piper began letting her Princess Leia buns down, cursing Ashton the entire time. While the overall look is something I’ll never forget, I’m pleased to see her long hair once again flowing around her shoulders. Once she was more Piper and less Leia, she fastened her seat belt and slightly curled into a ball next to me. With her cheek resting on the back of the seat, we both seem content to just be.

During the slight break between songs filling the cab I notice her breathing has slowed. A quick glance her way confirms that she’s asleep. I briefly consider turning around and taking her home but if I know anything about Piper, it’s that she’ll be more than upset if I don’t follow through with the plan to go to my house.

I take this opportunity to simply appreciate the quiet and how this is the most relaxed I’ve felt in weeks. Avoiding time with Piper has been intentional and it has sucked. Royally sucked. A soft murmur from her has me looking at her again. She’s moved her hands so they make a pillow of sorts. She looks angelic and, as usual with these simple moments in Piper’s presence, I find myself hating my good guy self. Sometimes I wish I was less concerned about other people and willing to say screw it and push Piper to see where our feelings will take us.

I recognize all the ways this detour can go wrong. The most obvious issue is the fact that I may actually die from not be able to touch her. Then there’s the possibility that we’ll have another talk and Piper will remind me of the “friends only” agreement. Of course there is the slightest chance that nothing will happen. There is the chance that we’ll avoid an awkward moment, avoid deep conversation, and, God willing, no friend zone talk.

While I’m contemplating each scenario in complete detail, I hear the seat belt unbuckle and Piper scoot next to me.

“Piper, what are you doing?”

“I’m cold.”

“Let me turn up the heat.”

Before I can reach for the dial to the heat, Piper curls into my side.

“This is fine. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Uh, no it’s fine.”

I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth as I attempt to slow my heartrate.

“Don’t wreck us, okay?”

“I won’t. I will keep you safe, Princess.”

“I know,” she says through a yawn. “I’m just going to close my eyes until we get there.” Her last words are barely a mumble before she dozes off again.

These small moments she grants me give me the slightest glimpse of what we could be. How perfectly she fits into the crook of my arm and how her body molds into mine as if it was and is meant to be there.

Then the unthinkable happens and her hand drifts to my thigh, only inches from Mr. Happy. This woman is going to be the death of me. I shift my leg just enough, hoping she’ll move her hand. She doesn’t. If I didn’t know better, I’d say her hand was intentionally gripping my leg and not just resting there.

The turn off to my property can’t come soon enough and I let out a sigh of relief the moment I stop in front of the house. Unable to use my right arm to put the truck in park for fear of startling Piper, I reach across the wheel and use my left hand. Once the truck is safely parked and the ignition off, I use my same hand to move the hair that has fallen in Piper’s face away. This tiny gesture has her slowly waking.

“Piper, baby. We’re here.”

“Hmmm.”

I watch as her eyes flutter open and she takes in her surroundings. Slowly rising from where she is leaning against me, she looks into my eyes. My hand still on her hair where I just moved it.

“You always do that.”

Never breaking eye contact, I offer her a small smile. “That’s because you are too beautiful for your hair to hide your face.”

I slowly move my hand so that my thumb is making a slow descent down her cheek until it reaches her chin. Her eyes take a quick break from mine and I see her look at my lips before returning my gaze. Our faces are close. Hers only inches from mine, I can feel her breathing, smell the whiskey on her breath.

I only notice my hand is still holding her face when her own hand grasps mine and she smiles. It’s the smile that brings out the golden flecks in her eyes and causes her to scrunch her nose. The smile I can’t help but return.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I clear my throat and put a little space between us. This movement successfully cuts through the thick tension – sexual tension – that made its way into this suddenly too small of a truck.

“Do you want to see what I’ve done so far?”

“Of course. Do you have electricity?”

I let myself out of the truck and walk around to help Piper out. Again, she lets me take her hand. I reach inside the rear cab and grab a blanket.




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