Heartbreaker (Unbreakable #1)(17)

He shrugged. “Half a dozen or so. We noodled around after playing covers for about a year. Created our own sound during a drunken jam session late one night.”

He leaned over, picked up his phone from the floor, then cast a quick glance at it. He took the next exit, slowing to a four-way stop.

We sat at the intersection, idling. “Okay. Decision time. Left or right? Easy or hard?”

“Easy sounds boring.”

“Can be.”

Vague. And interesting. “I choose the opposite of boring. Think I can handle hard?”

“I dunno. Can you?” His tone thickened with innuendo as he turned the truck right.

Okaaay. I’d actually meant running. My leashed libido snapped to life again.

“Not fair.” I glared at him. “You want me to keep my mind out of the gutter, you have to help.”

He let out a deep unapologetic chuckle. “I can’t help where your mind goes. Challenge yourself. Show some discipline.”

“Grrr…” I growled, pulling a laugh from him. Then I sighed, resigned to the task. “Fine. I’m up for it. Why not? I’ve been celibate this long.”

“How long?”

“Whoa.” I arched a brow at him. “Is this proper friend talk?”

“Sure.” He fought a smile. “Friends can console friends on sexual frustration.”

“Uh-huh.” I didn’t buy it. I had a hard enough time being in the same truck cab with him. At least today he wore a shirt. So I didn’t have to keep picturing him naked.

Great. Now I’m picturing him naked.

“See.” He interrupted, saving me from my dirty thoughts. “I’ll go first: I’ve been celibate two months.”

“Bullshit,” I coughed out. I’d been at Loading Zone often enough. Had seen him leave with other girls. But maybe it hadn’t been recent. The months seemed to blur together.

The roadside scenery thickened with pine, an occasional sycamore or walnut breaking through. He slowed and downshifted as our gently winding road began to climb in elevation. “Well, I haven’t been marking a calendar, but I’m pretty sure it was after Valentine’s Day.”

“Not before?” I smirked. “Afraid of the hearts-and-flowers holiday?”

“Not afraid. Just smart enough to avoid it.” He gave a sharp nod, like it emphasized his wisdom. “Your turn.”

For some reason, the laidback nature of our conversation lulled me into wanting to be truthful with him. A part of me wanted what he offered. Other than Cade, Ben, and Mase—all essentially brothers to me—I’d never had a platonic guy friend. After the disaster in high school, I’d avoided getting close to anyone, preventing any kind of emotion for the opposite sex.

However, in the spirit of keeping aboveboard with our experiment in friendship, I reflected back to the last time I’d had a hookup.

“Waiting…” He drummed both thumbs on the steering wheel.

“Thinking…” I crossed my arms over my chest, staring out the windshield at the dense forest on either side of the road as I searched my memory. The further back my mind went, the more it seemed hopeless to even give a date to it. Not since last summer. Not in the spring. Not after the New Year’s Eve party where Cade had gotten some—and none of the rest of us had. “Damn.”

“That bad?”

“Ancient.”

“We talking months?”

“Over a year.” I sighed. “Under two.”

“Why so long?”

“Seriously?” I choked out a laugh. “Would’ve been a few days ago if you’d cooperated.”

He cast me a penetrating look. He waited a silent beat. Then he glanced ahead again before changing lanes and turning into a gravel parking lot.

Once we parked, he twisted toward me, expression growing serious. “There have to be other guys that fit the bill.”

“Sure. Athletes, mostly. My first stretch was football players. Then a couple of baseball players. One guy played hockey.”

“Nothing serious?”

“Nope.”

“Not even close?”

Yeah, so not going there. Apparently I had limits with the whole disclosure thing. “Not even a ‘boyfriend’ tag,” I hedged, not fully answering the question. Fidgeting under his sudden scrutiny, I volleyed the topic back. “What about you? What’s up with ‘Mr. Complicated’?”

His expression hardened. “We don’t have enough hours to cover that ground.”

“Hmmm…interesting.” I wasn’t the only one who buckled under romance pressure.

He nodded his chin toward the dashboard. “Ready to tackle a mountain?”

I leaned forward and glanced up through the windshield. “Mountain?” I paused, swallowing hard. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Don’t be scared, Flash. It’s just like the track. Only vertical.”

“I’m not scared,” I huffed, shoving open my door.

“Never thought it for a moment.”

“Jerk,” I muttered.

The corners of his lips twitched.

I shook my head with a soft snort, then tore off toward the trailhead, not waiting for him. He shouted something, but I couldn’t hear him over the pounding of my feet and blood rushing past my eardrums. Of course, I slowed after about a minute. I’d learned my lesson the first time on the track. Run at my own pace.