Kissing in Cars (Kiss and Make Up #1)(2)

Eventually I lean down to unbuckle the adorable espadrille wedges on my feet, and as I do, the hair on the back of my neck prickles - I get the distinct feeling that I'm being watched.

How cliché, right?

Slowly I raise my eyes, covertly looking around without sitting up completely (kind of wishing I had a baseball cap on to conceal my own scrutiny) and sure enough, within seconds I've identified the source of my discomfort: there sitting across the library with his eyes locked on my legs is wicked Weston McGrath.

I swallow a lump in my throat as he slowly does what has been described in my smutty teen novels as 'raking his gaze' up my seated torso. And even though he is lucky enough himself to be donning a ball cap (so obviously I can't see much of his face) I can see that he is chewing on his lower lip.

It's excruciating.

Infuriating.

And so exciting.

What the heck is he looking at me like that for?

Watching him watch me is like.... like a train wreck that I can't peel my eyes from, and holy shit I would never admit to anyone, but he's giving me goose bumps. Major goose bumps, all over my legs and arms.

Panic: I wonder if he notices.

Here's the thing: I've never actually met or talked to Weston, but let me tell you this: he has a terrible reputation. And by 'terrible' I basically just mean he's a real *, totally full of himself, has no respect for anyone - and of course, the quintessential label as a player.

God do I hate that term.

Player.

How dumb.

I mean, seriously... What does it even mean (before I get all Wikipedia on you)? The guy is what, eighteen years old? Let's be real here: how many relationships and people could he have even realistically slept with to be called that? Hey, be my guest and label a college aged guy a 'player' - at least he has the age to back it up.

So while he's been given the label as one, I'm not sure if I actually believe it's true, skeptic that I tend to be. I myself tend to be the complete opposite, and will be lucky if I get a date this year to Prom, let alone to the movies, unless it's with some creep.

But still, that thrill is there as he sits in his seat checking me out.

Calling him a bad boy is sooo cliché, and makes me want to gag, but I guess it's a fair assessment. And sure, it's a tad harsh calling him an * (because in actuality he's a very popular guy); but Weston gets into more trouble (so I've heard) and dates more girls (again, this is hearsay) than anyone I've ever heard gossiped about. Not to mention, apparently he's a hardcore bad ass.

Here's what I know:

1. Apparently, last year his parents bought him a crotch rocket and he races it down a dead end road on the weekends (Well, I don't know this to be a fact exactly...).

2. Last month when he turned 18, he got a tattoo covering his entire arm (a sleeve, they call it). I haven't seen it up close (obviously) but I've heard about it from plenty of people. How many kids in high school even have regular tattoos, let alone a whole arm full of them?

3. Weston once got punched square between the eyes during a hockey game and never fell to the ice. His nose and eyes were black and blue for weeks.

4. He never attends school functions. Not basketball games. Not dances. He doesn't join clubs. I don't even know if he has a job. Weston McGrath plays hockey and that. Is. It.

5. He has never been seen with a date in public, and I use the term 'date' very loosely. Puck bunnies (i.e. Girls whose sole purpose in life is to sleep with a hockey player) are constantly hanging on him, but I don't think he's ever taken anyone out before. My guess is he's doing a whole lotta screwing and dumping.

I mentioned my best friend Jenna before, and she just happens to be one of those girls fascinated by Weston. Unfortunately, I am forced to hear all sordid details about him from her whenever they cross paths. In fact, she never shuts up about it - like she's his personal factotum.

The ironic part of all this? Jenna has a boyfriend (poor Alex Mitchell).

Anyways, if she spots him anywhere, she will literally drive you crazy with her yammering on and on about Weston McGrath and how hot he is. I think if he ever approached her she'd toss her cookies on his black leather boots from all the built up anticipation and adoration.

Pfft, black leather boots.

I glance over at his feet.

Yup, he's got 'em on.

To be honest, he's scares me a little. I'm naturally a smiley, sunny person who gravitates towards happy people - like my bestie, for example: she's got such a cheery disposition that it's hard for me to ever have a bad day. Believe me when I say this: I've never seen Weston McGrath smile. But Molly, you're thinking - you just said you don't hang out with him! Well you and I both know you can tell when someone isn't normally a naturally, cheery person, you know?

So, his scowl must be a permanent expression meant to scare the shit out of people.

Or maybe it's tattooed on like the rest of him. Also, I wonder if maybe he's gotten his teeth bashed out from playing hockey...

Weston's a forward on the team, and has been captain since freshman year which... is really incredible.

Like I said, he's a bad ass.

He still hasn't looked away and I feel the heat rising up my neck. Whenever I get nervous this hideous rash forms on my chest. It's really embarrassing, so I look away and sit up straight, clamping my legs together. The last thing I need is him trying to look up my skirt.