DELINQUENT | C. SPRINGER

Pit Stop

"So you're single?" Abby eyes Connie with anticipation.

You hold on to your breath.

"Yes," he locks eyes with you. "But I'm not interested in you. I have my eye on someone else."

Jean looks over at him with confusion. "You do? Since when?"

Connie stands up and sits on the rocks, his legs stirring the water. "Since senior prank night."

You try to conceal your smile with a cough, but you can't.

Connie isn't hiding anything and you wonder if Jean will connect the dots.

"What the hell man," Jean barks at his friend. "You just weren't gonna tell me? I'm your best friend."

Connie shrugs. "Nothing to tell yet. When there's something to announce, you'll know."

"Secrets don't make friends," Jean grumbles.

Claire leans in to Jean and whispers something in his ear, causing his cheeks to redden. She then leans back. "So are we friends now?"

"We can be anything you want," Jean smirks.

Connie gives Jean a look of uncertainty and then looks your way. He mouths 'want to go?' to you and you don't think twice about standing up and heading over to your clothes.

"I trust that you two will get him home in one piece?" Connie pulls his hoodie over his torso and eyes Claire and Abby.

Claire smiles. "Of course. He have a curfew ?"

You smile at her comment and slide your shoes on, watching Connie grab Jeans keys. You give them all one last glance, wanting to make sure he's not going to get murdered or anything.

"See ya, Jean," you wave lightly and pull on your long sleeve and follow Connie back towards the trail. The both of you in boxers and shorts, not wanting to get your sweatpants wet.

You two walk for a little bit and he then speaks up. "Those scratches," his hand trails down your spine. "...do they hurt?"

You shake your head. "Nope. I didn't even realize I had them."

He nuzzles his mouth into your neck and growls. "Should've been more rough then. I want you to remember."

You let out a quick laugh and approach the car. "I remember. Don't worry."

Connie unlocks the vehicle and you get into the passenger seat while he gets in the drivers. You buckle in and turn on the heat, making sure your seat warmers are on.

"Remember how to get back?" You yawn.

Connie puts the car in reverse and nods. "I do."

He pulls out of the small parking lot at the base of the trail and hits the main road. The music that's playing is low and you mostly hear the gravely road beneath the tires.

Your eyes wonder and they land on Connie's hand that's resting on his bare thigh and then they slide to the clinging material of his boxers, giving you a clear view of the shape of his bulge.

Connie catches you looking and smirks, his fingers stretch out and he grab his thigh even harder, thrusting his hips up to readjust, the veins under his skin present and noticeable as he moves.

You start to get warm, so you shut off the heated seats and close the vent facing you as well as cross your legs, wanting to stop the tingling sensation between your thighs.

"So," you mutter. "Which did you end up taking home? The brunette or the red head?"

Connie's eyes leave the road for a second and they lock with yours. "Do you actually want to know or are you just wanting to start a discussion about our relationship?"