Page 26 of Only and Forever
I can say yes to grabbing Chinese. It can just be a simple shared meal, nothing more. I can nourish myself, clear my head, sneak back to Charlie’s late enough that she and Gigi will already be sleeping, and avoid a conversation I’m definitely not ready to have with my sister about pushing me into something I don’t want to be pushed into.
“Maybe you don’t have me figured out after all, Viggo Bergman. Maybe a plate of lo mein sounds like just what I need.”
A slow, sexy smile lifts his face, even hidden in that wild beard. I try and fail not to be annoyed by how satisfied he looks, how jauntily he springs out of his chair. “Well then, Lulaloo, let’s get going.”
SEVEN
Viggo
Playlist: “Celeste,” Ezra Vine
“Where is this place again?” Eyes narrowed, Tallulah frowns at the road as if the power of her scowl alone will reveal our destination.
I lock the store’s front bolt with a satisfyingthunk. “Just a quick five-minute trek down the road. C’mon, I’ll drive.” After strolling toward my car, I slip the key inside the lock. My car is so old, it doesn’t have the capacity for a remote or keyless entry.
Tallulah takes one look at Ashbury and comes to halt. “I’m not getting in that death trap.”
I widen my eyes meaningfully. “Kindly lower your voice. Ashbury will hear your cruelty.”
She snorts, folding her arms across her chest. “Ashburyneeds to hear the truth. He deserves a merciful end in the scrapyard.”
“Tallulahloo, you’re ripping out my heart. You can’t talk about my car like that.”
With a headshake, she turns toward a shiny bloodred Vespa parked a few spots down. I blink, more than a little surprised. She strikes me as the sensible, safe type—I expected a hybrid car with an immaculate interior, not a sexy-as-hell dangerous motorbike. Tallulah glances over her shoulder and throws me an aloof glance, eyebrow arched, full mouth set in a firm, serious line.
My body hums to life.
“You enjoy driving that junkpile strapped to an engine,” she says. “I’m not getting in it. Just tell me where to go, and I’ll meet you there. To be clear, I willnotbe riding behind you. I don’t trust that clunker not to lose car parts.”
I swing my keys around my finger, eyeing up the Vespa as Tallulah does an adorable little hop and swings her leg over it. With cool efficiency, she yanks out her bun. Ice-blue hair tumbles like a waterfall to her shoulders before she tugs it back into a low pony, then slides a glossy black helmet down over her face.
Guilt tugs at me as I peer back at my poor beat-up car, faded burnt-orange paint marred by gaping rust spots. I set a hand on the trunk and sigh. “Sorry, Ash. I’m a mere mortal. She’s hot. And she’s going to be even hotter driving an Italianvroom-vroom. I can’t say no.”
“Are you seriously talking to your car?” Tallulah calls.
“Would you mind?” I call back. “We’re having a moment here. A heart-to-heart.”
She rolls her eyes.
“You just rest easy.” I pat the trunk again, then click the carabiner holding my keys to my jeans belt loop. “I’ll be back in a little, old friend.”
Turning, I catch Tallulah frowning at me. As I jog toward her, her frown deepens. “What,” she asks, “are you doing?”
“Hitching a ride, of course.” I ease onto the seat behind her and sidle close.
Tallulah’s back goes ramrod straight. “I didn’t offer to drive you.”
“And yet you have a spare helmet hanging right here.” I tear off my ball cap, shove it safely into my back pocket, then tug down the helmet.
Tallulah turns slowly, gives me a chilly, appraising once-over, then slams down her visor. “Well.” Her voice is muffled inside herhelmet, but her dripping sarcasm is impossible to miss. “Nice to see you haven’t become any less pushy since freshman year.”
I grin. “Nice to see you remember the details of my sparkling personality, even after all these years.”
Tallulah slaps down my visor, then turns and faces forward. The engine roars to life. She grips my thighhardand tugs, dragging me closer. I swear under my breath before all the breath I have rushes out of me. Tallulah takes my other hand, wraps it around her waist, across the soft curve of her hip and her belly. Heat bursts through me.
“Now do the same with the other arm,” she orders.
Slowly, as if in a daze, I wrap my other arm around her waist, too. I’m curled around Tallulah, who’s so short that her head, even with its big, sturdy helmet, fits neatly under my chin. She’s so fierce and prickly, but she feels so sweet and soft, tucked close to me.