Kissing in Cars (Kiss and Make Up #1)(38)

I glance at the clock. Forty minutes left in the period. I can handle that.

Only...

I keep stealing glances at Molly who has her head bent, the ends of her ponytail flirting with her collarbone. The little bow pinned in her hair is a nice contrast to the tight fit of her shirt, and my eyes wander to the bare skin above her neckline.

Staring at her neck reminds me of how fantastic she smells - how her smooth skin tasted against my tongue - and I shift in my seat, the memories making me hard. In the damn library of all places. Watching her sit there completely ignoring me like I'm not even in the room is bringing out all of my narcissistic tendencies, and now all I want is her attention.

I really am a f*cker.

Yup, that's right - my resolve lasted all of five minutes.

"Look up, Molly," I quietly chant to myself. "Look up."

And then on cue, as if she can hear me, she does.



MOLLY

He's got my attention - now what's he going to do with it?

I watch as Weston stares me down and to say I'm totally confused right now is an understatement. For two whole days I waited for him to contact me - they felt like a freaking eternity. I carried my phone around pitifully, literally in my hand, because I didn't want to miss that 'ping' of a text alert or a phone call, hoping it would be him and being let down and disappointed each time it wasn't.

Not only that - I lay in bed pathetically both nights until my eyes drooped, waiting for my phone to light up in the dark. Every new friend request on Facebook could have been him but wasn't.

Waiting. Sucked.

All I keep thinking is "Gee Molly, you let him stick his tongue down your throat for crying out loud."

But you know what else sucks? The fact that I don't know who to be more pissed off at: him for blowing me off or me, or me for letting it affect me so much.

I really had thought...

Ugh, crap - you know what I thought...

Why do guys have to ruin everything with their melodramatic bull crap? I mean seriously. It's not like I wanted to skip down the halls with him holding hands - but a text or something would have been nice. A simple 'thanks for the date' would not have been too much to ask and would have taken him all of what, ten seconds?

Can I also point out that guys have the nerve to call girls dramatic when they're just as bad? I know exactly what Weston McGrath is thinking in that fat head of his - he's worried I'm going to unleash my inner stalker and fall madly in love with him when he doesn't have time for it. Which reminds me; I once innocently asked this guy Dave to a baseball game, and instead of just telling me no like a normal human being, he said he wasn't looking for a relationship. Um, so yeah, there's your proof that guys are just as bad as girls.

And for the record: I'm not saying I wouldn't fall in love with Weston... because I'm already halfway there.

I'm guess I'm disappointed it was just that one date.

The one date that ruined me for everyone else.

How annoying.





WESTON


I don't know how to fix this.

Molly is still watching me from her table a few rows over, an impassive expression if I've ever seen one. She raises an eyebrow, silently daring me to make a move.

I hesitate.

Then - in what some might consider a dick move - I push the chair opposite me out with the toe of my boot, sliding it away from the table in a silent invitation.

A plea, in my own twisted way, for her to come sit with me.

Leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms, I try to appear unaffected as I gauge her reaction. At first she narrows her eyes - obviously, she's trying to figure out why I pushed the chair out. Hell, I'm trying to figure out why I pushed the chair out when two minutes ago I was in panic mode about relationships.

So this could have just become one of those awkward moments in my life that I don't know how to handle. What I'd really like to do is walk out of study hall to avoid the entire situation, but not without getting my ass chewed out by the librarian or earning myself a detention. Damn, I hate second guessing myself. Would it have killed me to be friendlier when she was looking for a place to sit? The very least I could have done was offered up a smile. But at the time I was still trying to decode what her sitting with me might mean.

Shit, that sounded like something a girl would say.

And now... She's too far away.

At least it doesn't appear she hates me. Still studying me, Molly starts tapping her pen on the cover of her book - I can hear it from here - until the Goth chick at her table reaches out, grabs it out of her hands and tosses it on the carpeted ground.

Molly looks stunned, than I watch as her neck turns bright red, and I swear if I wasn't trying to get back into her good graces I would be laughing my ass off right now.

"Stop being a * Weston and get in there," my dad's voice echoes in my head. It's a mantra I've heard thousands of times and I've never repeated it to myself until now. So, hooking my booted foot back around the leg of the chair I've just pushed out, I pull it back in...then push it back out giving her a pointed look.

Her eyebrows raise and she cocks her head.

"Come here," I mouth quietly.

Indignantly Molly purses her lips, but even so the corners are upturned...the little brat.

"Please?" Begging in the library. I feel like such a douche.