Kissing in Cars (Kiss and Make Up #1)(17)

I know what you're thinking: why is she making this such a big deal?! Um, because, I'm listening to a song about love and kissing and now he wants me to blurt it out. I don't want him to get the wrong idea. Well. A perverse part of me does... The part that wants to stand up, walk over to his side of the booth, and crawl onto his lap.

Holy crap where did that come from? I'm not sure how I feel about this saucy Molly Wakefield taking control of my body.

Newsflash: my hormones seem to have kicked in and are full-fledged raging. Well, I better cool it down because despite his intensity, he's not even really flirting.

Inhaling I quickly blurt out "Youshouldhavekissedme."

"What? Wait. What?" his eyebrows shoot up into his shaggy hairline and the play of expressions on his gorgeous face is priceless. Somewhere between 'I can't believe my luck' and 'get me the hell out of here.'

I laugh. "The song is called 'you should have kissed me.' It's by Gloriana. Seriously, get your mind out of the gutter." I twirl some noodles around my fork and blow on it.

"I hate to break it to you Molly, but my mind is already in the gutter." Weston winks at me. "I dumped it back there on my way in to the building."

He winks again.

Okay. Definitely flirting.

Do people still swoon, or am I laying on the drama a little too heavily? Because dear lord, right now I could pass out and die.

Then I have this sudden random thought: if I were delusional like Erin from work, that wink would constitute an invitation to the Fall Formal dance. I almost giggle out loud at the thought, but catch myself and just do a generic eye roll instead.

"So wait, wait, wait. The song is about making out?" Weston stuffs more noodles into his face and wiggles his eyebrows. "Tell me more."

"Yes. No... It's basically about..." I pause to think about this and screw my face up in thought. "Mmm... It's basically about a girl arriving home from a date that she thought went great. But, her date doesn't kiss her good-night and naturally she wonders why."

"Naturally," Weston interjects airily.

I ignore him and continue, warming up to my topic. "The girl watches him through her curtains sitting in his car - he can't decide if he should go back or not - but then he finally he does run back up to the house."

"And then what? They make out?" He sounds like an excited little kid, and at the same time I can feel him looking at my lips. The scrutiny is intense, and I resist the urge to lick them again.

I'm tempted. So very tempted - just to see what would happen.

"Well, yeah, I guess. But not like that...."

He puts down his fork and stares at me. "Okay. Like how then?"

He's completely serious.

I wave my hand around in the air, trying to conjure up an explanation. No words come out: I cannot believe I'm having this conversation with Weston McGrath of all people. The very first time we formally meet.

"Look, just forget it."

"Hell no I won't forget it! Are you trying to drive me nuts? You know what? Here, give me your iPod. I'll just listen to it myself." He doesn't wait for me to hand it to him. Nope. The brute leans across the table and snaps up the iPod, its small size dwarfed by his large hands.

His bare arms are tan, toned, and now that we're sitting here and he's distracted, I can openly study his tattoo. It's an intricate design starting in the middle of his forearm and ending at his muscular shoulder blade. It looks like it might actually end even farther under his shirt - like maybe his collarbone, but from where I'm sitting it's hard to tell. And, I can definitely make out a few objects: the Ravens mascot, a crucifix, and a girl's name (Zoe, I think?) all woven into a tapestry of Celtic designs. It is entirely black.

Weston has my ear buds in and is adjusting the volume of my pink Nano.

I can tell that the song is on because his eyes settle on mine.

You should have kissed me: such a wistful and romantic song. I recently discovered it, and could listen to it over and over. Even though I can't hear the song playing myself, I can hear the words and rhythm playing in my head. "I should have kissed you...I should have pushed you up against the wall....I should have kissed you, just like I wasn't scared at all...."

Dear lord, I wonder what he's thinking.

Weston is watching me watch him, his dark chocolate eyes are hooded as if he's gotten sleepy. His dark inky eyelashes are sinfully long for a guy.

Minutes tick by.

Slowly - aguishly - he runs his tongue several times over the cut on his lower lip before reaching up and removing the ear buds.

I can't stand it. I have to ask.

"So...?" What did you think my mind is screaming.

He thinks for a heartbeat then gives me a non-committed "You're right. I've never heard it."

Wait. What?

That's it? After all that buildup? Okay, so obviously the buildup was only on my end. But in any case, I feel disappointment. Really Molly, what did you expect? He's a guy. And all this talk of kissing has me hot and bothered. For real, I wouldn't fight him off if he suddenly decided to ravish me with kisses. After all, I haven't been kissed in ages, and I've almost forgotten what it feels like. And I'm not really sure what to say at this point, so I just continue eating my half eaten meal, which has gotten cold during our conversation.