Chapter 3

Billie

By the time the festival winds down, I'm exhausted—physically from all the customers and mentally from trying to keep my head straight with Rayne so close all day. My body's on autopilot, packing up the booth. But my mind? It's all on him. His gruff voice, the way his hand brushed against my waist, the heat radiating from him every time he got near me.

I throw the last empty crate into the stack, glancing around. Shay left earlier with the bakery van—something about making a pit stop on her way home. Knowing her, she's probably off flirting with someone at the food court and only God knows when or if she'll be back.

Rayne's still here, leaning against the side of the booth, his arms crossed, watching me with that intense gaze. I can't help but feel the weight of his eyes on me.

"You need a ride?" His deep voice cuts through the quiet, low and rough like it always is.

I hesitate for a second, but I can't lie—I do need one. "Shay took the van. I don't think she's coming back anytime soon."

Rayne just nods, like that's the most natural thing in the world. "Let's go, then."

We finish packing up in silence, the air between us thick enough to cut with a knife. When we're done, Rayne nods toward his truck parked a few feet away.

"Hop in."

Rayne's car is big, dark, and rugged. And it smells exactly like I expected. Like him. Leather and woodsy aftershave, and the second I climb inside, I feel the warmth of his scent all over. There's something about being in his space that sends a shiver down my spine. It's like I'm surrounded by him, and it's doing things to me I can't explain.

Rayne climbs in on the driver's side, and the truck rumbles to life, the low growl of the engine vibrating through the seat. The atmosphere inside the cab is thick with unspoken words, and I'm hyper-aware of how close we are. His arm resting on the back of the seat, his hand gripping the steering wheel, the way his thigh brushes against mine when he shifts gears.

"Long day," Rayne mutters, eyes still on the road ahead.

"Yeah," I breathe out, my throat suddenly dry. "Thanks for the ride."

He just nods, his fingers flexing on the wheel. There's something heavy hanging in the air between us, something we've both been dancing around for too long. I try to ignore it, but the heat from his body, the rough way his voice wraps around me—it's all too much.

I steal a glance at him, taking in the hard lines of his jaw, the way the cowboy hat casts a shadow over his eyes. His muscles straining against his shirt as he drives. Every movement sending my pulse racing.

I swallow hard, feeling my stomach flip when the truck comes to a stop at a red light. The silence stretches between us.

Rayne doesn't look at me, but his voice is low, gruff when he says, "I'm done holding back, Billie."

* * *

Rayne

I've been keeping it together all day, but I'm done. Done pretending I don't want her. Done keeping my hands to myself when all I've been thinking about is what it'd feel like to have her pressed against me.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, the light turning green, but my focus is shot. I steal a glance at Billie—she's looking straight ahead, but I can see the way her breath hitches, how her body tenses when I speak. Good. She feels it too.

I reach out, my hand settling on her thigh, feeling the warmth of her skin through her jeans. "I'm done dancing around this thing between us, Billie."

Her breath catches, and I see her pulse quicken. There's a moment where I think she might pull away, but she doesn't. Instead, she leans into my touch, her body softening under my hand.

"Rayne…" she breathes, and just hearing my name on her lips makes my cock twitch in my jeans.

I glance at her again, taking in the way her full tits rise and fall a little faster under her shirt, the way her fingers grip the edge of the seat. The thickness between us is suffocating, and I'm on the verge of pulling over and taking her right here, right now. But I won't. Not yet.

"We're not rushing this," I mutter, my thumb brushing slow circles against her thigh.

I hear her let out a shaky breath, her head turning slightly to look at me. Her eyes are dark, wide, and full of heat, and it takes every ounce of willpower I've got not to lean over and kiss her.

But I don't.

I keep driving, my hand still on her thigh, my touch lingering just enough to let her know this isn't over. Not by a long shot.