Undenied (Unspoken #3)(8)

“It wasn’t one of my prouder moments,” he defended. “I realize it sounds stupid, but it was pretty humiliating.” Hell, he still cringed when he thought too long about it.

“It’s not stupid. I think it’s sweet,” she said, her smile growing broader.

Sweet? Hell, he’d almost prefer humiliation.

Her face took on a dreamy look, and the smile turned wistful. “What I remember is that we were young. I was nervous and excited all at the same time, and you were so sweet and patient with me.”

Patient? Clearly they were remembering separate events. He’d acted with no finesse, and premature ejaculation didn’t even begin to cover the description of his performance.

He cleared his throat. “Uhm, Payton, are you sure you’re remembering the time you had sex with me?”

She laughed. “A girl remembers her first time, and she certainly remembers the guy who was her first.”

“I wasn’t patient,” he said gruffly.

“Yes, you were,” she chided. “You were incredibly sweet. You said all the right things. That I was beautiful. You made sure I was with you every step of the way.”

“I did?”

She nodded. “I don’t know what kind of messed-up event you remember but it’s obvious our perceptions of it are very different. Was it the best sex I’ve ever had? No. But it wasn’t a disaster. In fact, for it being my first time, I don’t think it could have been much better.”

He swallowed the knot in his throat and went for the final humiliating factor. “It was my first time, too,” he said grudgingly.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Really? I was your first?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled. “I think that’s—”

“If you say sweet, I swear I’ll push you out of the truck,” he growled.

A peal of laughter rang out. “Okay, I think it’s cool. That better?”

He smiled for the first time. “I guess you think this is completely ridiculous.”

She reached over and cupped his cheek in her palm. “I think a lot of things. I think I’m flattered by the fact you were so concerned that you’d hurt me. I think you’ve turned into a great guy, not surprising since I always thought you were positively dreamy.” She winked before continuing on. “But ridiculous? No, I don’t think you’re ridiculous.”

Her eyes narrowed until they became half-lidded. She viewed him under a veil of thick lashes, and her tongue came out to wet her lips. She was going to kiss him again.

Not if you kiss her first.

And why not? So far she’d made all the moves. He wanted to taste her, wanted to remember how good she felt in his arms. And damn it, he wanted some kind of reaction from the lower half of his body.

He eased his head forward, meeting her halfway. She raised her other hand to cup his other cheek and pulled him closer. He slid his hands up

her shoulders, over the curve of her neck until they rested just below her ears. His lips met hers. Cautiously at first.

A soft mingling of flesh. Kiss and retreat. Kiss again. Longer this time. His tongue darted out. He wanted her taste, wanted to remember, wanted to replace the undesirable memories with better ones.

This time, the urgency of youth was absent. Instead, there was a slow, sensual exploration, a gentle seduction. This is what she should have had the first time. Not his clumsy attempts.

That thought sent a jolt of reality over him. With a ragged sigh, he pulled away and leaned back against the headrest of his seat.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

It would seem his humiliation knew no bounds. He gestured downward with a casual flip of his hand. “Nothing. That’s what’s wrong. My mind says yes. Unfortunately, my mind and my body are on two different wavelengths.”

“I guess this is where I get the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech,” she said.

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was either that or die a slow death from embarrassment. “I think it’s definitely safe to say it’s not you, Payton. Apparently I have more issues than Time Magazine. Who knew I was so f**ked in the head over something that happened twelve years ago.”

She rotated her wrist up to check her watch. “Not that I don’t enjoy dampening a man’s ardor, but I really need to be getting back. I have the rehearsal supper this evening, and I have to drive back to Beaumont to the hotel to get ready.”

He saw through her flippant front. He knew he’d hurt her. Again. Not physically this time. His chest felt heavy with regret.

“Payton?”

She looked up.

“You don’t know how much I wish…how much I wish that things were different.”

She grinned, though her chin trembled just a bit as she spoke. “So what you’re saying is that you wish like hell your c**k would cooperate so you could prove to me what a stud you’ve turned out to be.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it like that exactly,” he muttered.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Maybe we’re better off just being friends and calling it good.”

As he started the engine and drove back down the dirt road, her last words echoed in his ears. Friends. Hell, he was friends with Gracie. He didn’t want to be friends with Payton. It didn’t feel like enough all of a sudden. He felt an odd sort of ache, deeper than his skin, deep in his chest. Like someone had dropped a bowling ball down his throat. And he was hard-pressed to put his finger on why.