The Friend Zone(31)

I wished he would slip his arms around me. He looked like the kind of man who gave great hugs. Bear hugs. The kind that enveloped you.

For a second I wanted to ask him if I could hug him. I bet he wouldn’t say no. But I’d already played with enough fire for one day, and that would be crossing a line.

The foot rub had been crossing a line.

But God, I wanted the hug. I wanted it so badly the pull toward him felt physical, like the ocean dragging against your ankles when the tide pulls back.

But I had to maintain boundaries. For so many reasons—Tyler being the least of them.

Josh nodded to the car. “I’m having it towed to a shop by your house so we can get a ride with him and then just walk the rest of the way home.”

The tow truck guy spoke over the sound of clinking chains. “You kids are gonna have to lap sit. I got my dog with me.”

My eyes flicked to Josh’s, and I shook my head quickly. “No. I can’t sit on your lap.”

The words were coming out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying. But I couldn’t. I really couldn’t. If I sat on his lap, the temptation would catapult me. “I’ll look for an Uber.”

I started punching into my phone, opening the Uber app.

“What? Are you serious?” he asked.

“Yeah. We don’t fit in there, so no choice.”

He made an impatient noise. “Look, I’ve gotta be at work in a few hours. I’m still an hour from getting home if I leave right now. Can we just do this?”

I shook my head, staring at my phone. I got an Uber. Then the driver immediately canceled the trip. Fuck! It was the area. Nobody wanted to come to this part of downtown this late. It was too dangerous. “Then go. I’ll be fine here. I’ll call a cab.”

Josh’s eyes bored into me. I could feel them, but I didn’t dare look up.

“Kristen, we’re practically in Skid Row. I’m not leaving you here. If you stay, I stay. And if you make me stay, you’re making me lose sleep.”

I looked up at him, my eyes pleading. “I can’t sit on your lap,” I said again. I didn’t bother with an excuse. I didn’t like to lie. Let him think this was about Tyler.

He raked a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I don’t get this, Kristen. You’re way too practical for this. We have a ride. He’s here. Now. We’ll be at your house in fifteen minutes. I don’t care if you sit on my damn lap.”

“I’ve got a boyfriend.” Not an excuse. Not a lie. Completely factual.

“Well, I’m not going to tell him this story if you’re not. Let’s go.” He started for the door of the tow truck, his tone final.

It was wrong. It was wrong because how much I wanted it made it wrong. A fifteen-minute ride sitting on Josh’s lap—it would be an eternity. And I would love every second of it and hate myself for it.

I looked around desperately, like a cab might suddenly appear from the shadows. Instead, the taco truck tapped its horn as it drove past us, leaving the lot. Even Marv had disappeared. The vacant lot with its dim lighting and wall of tents immediately looked menacing. We didn’t even have a car to sit in and wait while I tried to get a taxi to come get us.

He was right. We had to take this ride.

I let out a breath, steeling myself for what I had to do.

Josh got in first, sliding in next to an old white-faced golden retriever who took up most of the cab.

I was hot suddenly. Really hot. I took off his jacket and folded it over my arm and climbed in after him. He pulled me onto his knees, strong hands on my waist, and I draped the jacket over my lap.

Josh leaned over to close the door, his chest pressing into my body, and I held my breath at the contact.

Fuck, I can’t do this.

It was sensory overload. So much of him at once I felt dizzy. I wanted to leap off his lap and into the parking lot where I would be safe from myself. But he was the sun. His gravity was too strong, and now that I was so close, I couldn’t get out of his pull.

He slammed the door and sat back against the seat while I perched sideways on his knees, my back stiff, trying to keep my breathing steady. He made an exasperated sound, like I was being ridiculous, and pulled me closer until my shoulder pressed into his chest. He wrapped the seat belt around us, folding into me as he did, and buckled it in.

The cab smelled like dog and gasoline.

And Josh.

His breath tickled my cheek. “There. Is that so bad?” he asked, his voice low.

It was terrible. So fucking terrible. Because it was wonderful and it was so much more than I could handle. He was warm and firm, and he smelled incredible. It made me want to rest my head on his shoulder and nuzzle his neck with my nose, and if I did, and he tipped his head down, I’d kiss him and there would be no stopping me.

I couldn’t even look at him. We were so close together that if I did, I was afraid our lips might touch.

I tried to relax. I leaned back into him, acting like none of this was a big deal while I secretly obsessed over every point of contact—the back of my thighs on his, the hand that he had set on his knee where his fingers absently grazed my leg, the arm he had casually wrapped around my waist.

It felt like we sat there for hours before the guy got in and started the engine.

Part of me relished every second, sitting there so close to Josh. The other part of me was tortured—teased.