Page 26 of Quarter Miles (Runaway 3)

I’d gotten hard for Kat. My Kat. Katherine Gates, my incredibly sexy, incredibly off-limits best friend.

Kat would come along with me and some buddies whenever I took the family boat to the lake on rare summer weekends off. I’d threatened many friends with death by drowning because of the way they’d ogled her in a bikini.

I’d seen her in less than that towel. I’d seen her countless times after a shower. Granted, normally she wore the lavender puff monstrosity of a robe that my mother had bought her for Christmas a few years ago. It covered her from neck to calf but it was still after-shower attire.

But damn that towel.

I’d wanted to strip it from her body and taste her lips, discover for myself if they were as sweet and pure and clean as the water droplets clinging to her skin.

This was crazy. Fuck, I was losing my mind.

And I was hard again.

Son of a bitch.

“Do you want me to drive?” she asked, shifting in the seat. She tucked one ankle under the opposite knee and the position meant there was a lot of long, lean thigh in my periphery.

My eyes zeroed in on the dotted yellow line that broke the asphalt into halves. I refused to look at her leg. “No.”

“Okay.” She plucked the quarter out of the metal ashtray, where we’d stashed it.

Ahead, a sign indicated we were about ten miles away from the next town and the interstate. Idaho was long gone, apparently along with my self-control. We were in Washington, headed south.

“Let’s flip to see if we go straight or turn.”

“ ’Kay.” I nodded. “Heads, we keep south. Tails, we go east or west. We’ll flip again to decide.”

The coin turned end over end above her lap and landed with a light thud in her palm. She slapped it on the back of her opposite hand. “Tails.”

That meant we’d be getting on the interstate. East would take us toward Montana. Part of me wished for east, longing for the normalcy of home. But I knew Kat. She wasn’t going to be satisfied until the Cadillac was delivered, which meant whether I liked it or not, we were headed to Oregon.

Heads. Come on, heads.

She repeated the flip. “Heads.”

“West,” I breathed.

At least fate was sympathetic to my pain. If the coin flips continued to go in my favor, we’d keep this up. Maybe this attraction was a temporary glitch and tomorrow morning I’d feel differently. But if not, the second that quarter began to work against me, I was tossing it out the window and punching Heron Beach into the GPS.

“Want to stop?” I asked as we neared a gas station beside the interstate’s onramp.

“Yes, please.”

I nodded and eased off the road, deciding to fill up too and parking beside the pump.

“Are you coming in?” Kat hopped out and slid her sunglasses into her hair. It blew in the breeze and as a few wisps tickled her forehead, she lifted an arm to brush them away.

That move wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen a hundred times, but I sat in the driver’s seat, transfixed. She’d curled her hair again, for the second day in a row. It was as long as it had ever been, the glossy locks tumbling over the spaghetti straps of her dainty top.

“Cash.”

I blinked. Fuck. My. Life. “Yeah, I’ll be in after I gas up.”

“Okay.” Her long legs were impossible to ignore as she crossed the parking lot to the convenience store. I mean, they weren’t long. Not at all. I could pick her up with one arm and toss her over my shoulder, she was that small. But damn they looked long. Miles of smooth, tight skin leading down from an ass that my cock wanted to kiss.

I dropped my eyes to my zipper and the bulge forming beneath. “Fuck you.”

This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t have the hots for Kat. She’d laugh in my damn face.