-^RYEN^-
By the time I pulled off my apron, my arms felt like wet noodles. My back ached. My scalp itched from wearing my hair tied up for too long. I could still smell burnt toast and old grease on my clothes, like they'd soaked into my skin, become part of me. The restaurant's back door creaked as I shoved it open, stepping out into the night.
The air outside was thick and heavy, summer clinging to every inch of my body like a second shift. Heat radiated off the pavement in slow, invisible waves, and somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, far enough away to ignore. I took a breath deep, then deeper but the weight in my chest didn't lift. It just sank lower.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket.
Carren: I'm outside. Hurry, baby.
I barely smiled.
That was enough, I guessed. Enough for tonight.
I started down the sidewalk, head low, footsteps dragging. Then honk a short blip of a car horn made me look up. Headlights washed across the pavement. There he was, parked just across the street, leaning slightly out of the driver's side window, grinning like he'd just won something.
Carren.
Waving, cocky and casual, like this was our thing. And I guess it was. I forced myself to lift a hand, return the wave, and pulled what little energy I had left into my legs to skip across the street.
Fake it 'til it feels real.
I slid into the back seat and barely had the door shut before he leaned over the console and kissed me. Warm. Familiar. A little possessive. He always kissed me like I belonged to him and most nights, I let him.
"Hey, baby," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair off my face. "Rough shift?"
I let my head fall back against the seat. "The usual. I think my soul died somewhere between table five's spilled drinks and scraping marinara off the floor."
He laughed low and smooth. "You sound like a woman who needs saving."
I lifted my eyes to meet his. "You offering?"
"Always," he said, reaching into a brown paper bag and handing it to me. "Brought you a burger. And…" He held up a small cup with a pink plastic spoon. "Strawberry ice cream. Because you're cute when you're grumpy."
A tired smile tugged at my lips. "You're such a manipulative bastard."
"Maybe," he said. "But I pay in food, so I'm forgiven."
I took the burger and tore into it, hunger suddenly punching through the haze of fatigue. It was warm, greasy, and dripping with guilt-flavored cheese. Perfect.
The ice cream melted a little too fast in my hand, but the first bite hit me right in the chest. Sweet. Cold. Comforting. Like being hugged by sugar.
"Thanks," I mumbled, licking the spoon.
He started driving, the car humming beneath us like a heartbeat. I watched the city glide past the window, all gold lights and shadows. I didn't feel like talking, and thankfully, neither did he not for a few minutes.
Then his hand crept back between the seats, fingertips brushing my leg.
"You know…" His voice dipped into that teasing register I knew too well. "You look kind of sexy like this."
I raised an eyebrow without turning. "Like what? A greasy mess with bags under her eyes and questionable body odor?"
"Exactly that." His fingers slid a little higher. "Messy hair. Flushed cheeks. You've got this whole… post-shift sex appeal thing going on."
I snorted, licking the last of the ice cream off the spoon. "You have no idea how unsexy I feel right now."
"Doesn't matter. I've got enough imagination for both of us."
I looked over at him his jawline sharp under the streetlights, his fingers resting on my thigh like they had every right to be there. Part of me wanted to tell him to stop.
But the other part? The tired, restless, aching part?
It didn't mind so much.
"Yours or mine?" I asked, already regretting it.
Carren didn't hesitate. "Neither. There's a park up ahead. We'll have the place to ourselves."
I frowned. "Seriously? A park?"
"You said quick, right?" His eyes met mine in the mirror, lit with something electric. "No roommates. No awkward morning-after. Just us. Just now."
My roommate moved out a month ago, he lived by himself, and what did awkward morning -after mean in a seven months relationship?
I hesitated for a second too long.
Then nodded. "Fine. Quick."
The park was silent when we pulled in. Trees framed the lot like silent guards, their branches casting lacy shadows across the hood of the car. He parked under the darkest patch and killed the engine. The sudden quiet was thick, like the car had turned into a cocoon.
Before I could say anything, he slid into the back with me, all heat and hands.
His lips were on my neck in seconds, and my body responded faster than my mind could keep up. I didn't fight it. Didn't want to think. His touch was practiced, confident he knew how to make me melt, how to draw out the little noises I tried to hold in. I tilted my hips, found his mouth, kissed him like I meant it
His hands were all over me lifting, pressing, undressing and I let him. I kissed him harder, trying to chase that feeling I used to get. That high. That heat. That dizzy, stupid rush that said this matters.
But it didn't feel like that anymore.
It felt… like routine.
Like something I did because I didn't know how not to.
He whispered my ears as his fingers found my clit, I was starting to get wet, then he drove in two fingers and kissed me again, I moaned in his mouth and rubbed my palm against his bulge from his jeans.
"Fuck", he hissed and helped me on top him as he hastily freed his length out of his pants with one hand and used the other to free my tits from my bra at the same time.
He graped my tits with a hand and placed himself at my entrance with the other.
He groaned as I brought myself down on him, I started with slow strokes until he picked up rhythm. He kept moving his hips as he pumped from underneath me, then he started to increase pace, rubbing my clit faster. Our sweats, sighs and the sound of flesh smacking against each other filled the car.
Carren held onto my waist with an iron grip as he buried his face into my neck and the vibration of the labourer moan, filled my body more than the orgasms.
When it was over, I lay against him, our skin cooling fast in the fogged-up car. His chest rose and fell beneath my cheek. I could hear the thump of his heartbeat, steady and real. Tangible.
"Hey," he murmured, brushing a curl from my face. "You okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah".
On the drive home, the air was filled with the low hum of the engine and the occasional tap of his fingers on the wheel. He rested his hand on my thigh again. Not in a sexy way this time more like a casual claim.
I watched the streetlights flicker past, wondering if this me, him, this night was just what I'd settled for.
I leaned my head against the cool glass and closed my eyes.
And just before I drifted off, thought about... Everything.