Kissing in Cars (Kiss and Make Up #1)(29)

"My dads'. Is this okay? I didn't want to make it awkward by showing up on my bike. I don't want your parents to have any objections." I look over and can't help but think she looks great sitting beside me.

When did all this happen? Since when do I lay up at night thinking about the same girl and watching for her in the halls at school? And when did I get so mushy? Changing my ride, holding doors open and getting my hair cut? Am I out of my damn mind? Romance is for saps and pussies, and I'm neither.

"That was very thoughtful, thank you. It would have sucked if they made me stay home," Molly says relaxing her elbow on the center council. Her body is naturally leaning towards me and is just close enough to catch a whiff of her...not perfume. Something else. Subtly, I inhale the smell of citrus. Or strawberries.

Her shoulders are bare and she has a jacket or shawl or whatever wadded up on her lap. It would be so easy to lean in just a little farther and plant one on her glossy pink lips. The corners of her mouth are pulled into a nervous smile, and what I wouldn't give to suck on that pouty lower lip.

Instead, I turn the key and start the ignition, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.





MOLLY


"So. Where are we headed?" I ask, trying to come off as nonchalant. I was going to say 'where are you taking me?' but that just makes me think 'take me,' which makes me think of sex and making out, and who can concentrate with those thoughts on the brain?

Not me.

"You ate, right?" He glances over with his dark eyebrows raised, his hands clutching the steering wheel.

"Yes, just like you instructed me to," I say, teasing him with a smile on my face. He had been very clear in his text: make sure you eat b4 I pick u up.

"Good, because there's no human food where we're going." A wry smile crosses his lips, sending a shiver through my body. I take a deep breath and look out the window at the landscape going by to distract myself. Soon, Weston is no the interstate and we're headed east.

"Are we going into the City?"

"Stop asking questions and being so nosey."

I let out an exaggerated huff and fidget with the black jacket in my lap. I've been instructed by Jenna not to wear it: it's for emergency cold temperatures ONLY. And I quote: "You listen and you listen good Molly Wakefield (she points at me like she's a trial lawyer and I'm on the witness stand). I busted my ass getting you ready for the date of our life - I mean your life - do not ruin this outfit by wearing a jacket. This jacket is for Emergency. Use. Only. (she gripped the jacket, shaking it at me in her clutched hand with every annunciated word). How do you expect Weston to lust after you if you cover up your girl bits? Now. I'm going to slowly hand it over, but not willingly..."

Of course, that lecture only led me to believe Jenna might be a tad bit unstable...

"Sorry, I can't help it. I have an active imagination. I'm sitting over here in my little corner hoping you're not taking me out of town to murder me..."

Weston laughs, the glorious sound filling the cab of the truck. "Trust me on this; I'd rather be doing other things to you." The comment rolls off his tongue airily. "Oh shit, did I say that out loud?"

I'm silent for a few heartbeats, my mind racking for something to say. Finally I shrug and say, "Well I guess that's good to know."

We both laugh.

"Molly, that was possibly the coolest way any chick could have responded."

I throw my hands up. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying it wasn't pervy, but I'm willing to overlook it. I mean, you did get your hair cut for me and all..." I tease him and he has the decency to blush. Even in the dim light I can see the color rising on his neck.

He looks more like a boy than the cocky guy that struts around school like he owns it.

A loud chirping sound fills the cab of the truck and we both realize Weston's phone is ringing. Like a gentleman he ignores it, and for some reason, this pleases me. He seems like the kind of guy that wouldn't think twice about taking a phone call while he's on a date. Cause normally, it just seems like he doesn't....give a shit.

"Don't you at least want to see who that was?" I ask, smiling.

"No. The only person I want to talk to is sitting right next to me." He smiles over at me and his face transforms. His teeth are bright white against his freshly shaved skin. His eyebrows are dark and frame his eyes...Making me want to slide over and kiss his face all over.

Oh crap.

Newsflash: guys just can't go around saying romantic shit like that! 'The only person I want to talk to is sitting right next to me?!' Now what the hell am I supposed to say? Do you think that's a tad too upfront for our age - or too honest? I glance out the window, trying to conjure up some semblance of an intelligent response. Someone help me! Where is Jenna when I need her?

On second thought, her advice would probably be terrible. And probably... slutty.

Which... at this juncture doesn't seem like such a bad idea after all.

If I'm being honest.

Heat rises in my face, and I look back at Weston who has his eyes on the road.

Good boy.

I slowly let my eyes graze his body, starting with the hard thighs in the dark dress pants he's wearing. Even though I can't actually see them, I know the abs under that bright aqua polo shirt are flat. Flat and chiseled - at least in my vivid imagination they are. Flat, chiseled and sweaty... I swallow hard and bit my lower lip. He has both hands clutching the wheel, and I study his tattoos. Well, in general now I'm just checking out his arms... the muscles in his forearms flex and when he turns his head towards me our eyes meet.