“Do you want to go find a bathroom at a gas station so I can change?” she asks, inching the fabric back over her thighs.

There are probably locker rooms in the building where the class is. I should tell her that or just take her to a gas station. But even in the midst of my semi-panicking, I’m so turned on I can’t bring myself to utter those words.

“No, you’re fine.” I rip my eyes off her body and dig my phone from my pocket to busy myself with something other than gawking at her. “Unless you really want me to.”

“I’m good changing wherever,” she replies hesitantly. “And you don’t have to look at your phone if you don’t want to. I’m comfortable with you, Ayden.”

I believe her. She’s made it pretty clear that she wants to be with me as more than a friend. Right now, I wish I wasn’t completely fucked-up so I could have her that way.

Have her on the backseat.

Touching her everywhere.

Her warm body underneath me.

Flesh to flesh of blazing heat.

Drowning me in warmth.

Taste it.

Drown in it.

Beg for more.

Kiss her like my life depends on it.

Like the blood running through my veins.

Kiss her until the darkness fades.

Kiss her, kiss the hurt away.

“Ayden?”

My attention drifts back to Lyric. Fuck. She doesn’t have a shirt on. Her bra has the same lacy trim as her panties do, with a pink bow right between her breasts.

“Are you okay?” she asks, fiddling with the bow in the center “You’ve been zoning out.”

“Huh?” I blink away from her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She bites the tag off the shirt. “You seem really out of it. And I’m worried the visit with the police is,” she lifts her arms to pull her shirt over her head, “messing with your head.”

The visit with the police…

Where stuff happened…

Where I was reminded of my past…

My head becomes foggy...

She hasn’t pulled the shirt over her bra, still struggling to get the super tight fabric over her chest.

“The police visit did mess with my head a little, but that’s not what’s making me so out of it right now. It’s just … I mean, it’s you … and … you changing in my car in front of me.” My cheeks warm.

Her lips form an O as her gaze drops to the shirt stuck on top of her breasts.

“It’s really distracting,” I add, feeling like an idiot when my skin burns hotter, “to see you like … that.”

Instead of tugging the shirt down to cover up, she leaves the fabric up and bites on her bottom lip. “Good distracting?”

Her bluntness shouldn’t surprise me—this is Lyric—yet I am. I’m stupidly surprised to the point that I just gape at her. She stares back, thoroughly amused.

What I wouldn’t give to be like Lyric.

So at ease with life.

So comfortable in my own skin.

I sneak another peek at her chest then face the steering wheel and open my texts, even though I have no messages. “Of course it’s a good distraction. You’re gorgeous.” My voice is low and husky in a way it’s never been before.

Lyric is breathing so ravenously I expect her to say something dramatic and sexual. She never utters a word, though. When I finally look up at her again, her shirt is on, and she’s putting her hair up.

“You ready to get this show on the road?” she asks coolly.

I nod and open the door, the cool air sweeping in and swirling around the cab, adding fog to the already fogged up windows.

“Wait. What about you?” She points at my black jeans, T-shirt, and combat boots. “Aren’t you going to change, too?”

“Into what? Tight yoga pants?” I crack a smile for the first time today, but it still takes a lot of effort.

“Hey, you might look good in them with that cute, little butt of yours.” She extends her hand toward me to pinch my ass, but I jump out of the car. She hops out, too, laughing her ass off as she shuts the door. “You should have seen the look on your face. It was adorable.”

“And what would you have done if I hadn’t moved?”

She skips around the front of the car and snatches hold of my hand. “Um, totally copped a feel and I’d have been damn proud of it.”

I roll my tongue along my teeth as a massive grin threatens to reveal itself. There are times when I wish I could spend every waking hour with Lyric. I’d smile a hell of a lot more and be way less depressed.

“You’re blushing,” she teases, moving in front of me and walking backwards without releasing my hand. “It’s cute.”

“No, I’m not.” A lie. My cheeks are blazing hotter than the sun.

“Okay, if you say so.” She turns back around and walks beside me, gazing up at the blue sky, musing over something.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask as we approach the back entrance of the building.

Her fingers wrap around the door handle. “Nothing.” Her head tilts to the side and I can see wheels turning in her head. “It’s just that…” Without warning, she reaches around and pinches my ass.

“Shit.” I skitter back, my fingers falling from hers.

“Ha! Don’t pretend you didn’t like that.” She yanks the door open and scurries inside, laughing.