Boys Like You(36)



“Okay,” she said hesitantly, and I knew she wasn’t exactly sure what had just happened.

“And Monroe?”

“Yes?”

I couldn’t help the slow grin that spread across my face. It was a side effect of the lightness inside me. A lightness that, these days, only she seemed to be able to tap into.

“I’m glad you stopped by.”

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Chapter Seventeen


Monroe


“Two Saturdays in a row,” Nate said as he slid into Gram’s car and reached for his seatbelt. He’d had the quickest shower ever and reappeared in less than ten minutes, wearing a pair of faded jeans, beat-up brown boots, and a steel-blue, long-sleeved Henley.

He looked way too good, and my heart started beating a mile a minute as soon as I saw him.

I’m sure he heard it, which was why I turned without saying anything and bolted for the car. I managed a wave at his mom and dad, but I’m sure they thought I was a complete idiot.

“Monroe?”

“What?” I glanced at him, and anything else I was going to say kind of froze in my throat.

His hair was damp and hung to the top of his shoulders in tangled waves that told me he hadn’t taken the time to comb them properly. He tilted his head to the side a little, a half smile on his face, and ba-boom, there went my heart again.

My hands clutched the steering wheel as if it was a lifeline, BoysLikeYou.indd 147

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but I kept picturing them trailing across the stubble on his chin, and even though I’d told myself I wouldn’t go there again, I thought of the kiss we’d shared. I swear I could close my eyes and feel his lips on mine.

“Are you okay?”

I glanced at him. Took a few moments. And then I was able to speak. “Yep.” I nodded and put the car in reverse. “Perfect.

Right as rain.”

Oh God. I was rambling. This wasn’t good.

I pulled out onto the road and headed toward town. The sun was just starting to descend, and the horizon was filled with red-gold rays. I had the windows down and smelled a hint of rain in the air. And though it was still hot and sticky, I was cold.

And nervous.

So. Freaking. Nervous.

“So where are we going?”

Shit.

“To town.”

“To do what?”

“Hang out.”

“Hang out where?”

I had a death grip on the wheel by now. “What’s with all the questions?”

I felt his gaze on me but refused to look at him. I concen-trated on the road and didn’t even protest when he changed the radio station. I was driving, so technically the music choice was 148

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my call, but hey, he could knock himself out because I had other things on my mind.

What was I doing? I knew he was going to hate the Coffee House. I knew the idea was a bad one. I knew this and yet…

I wanted to see him.

Unease settled in my gut, and I felt my cheeks heat again.

This must be some kind of record.

I’d wanted to see Nate, and this had been my excuse. It had been my way of getting around the fact that I’d been a total *, ignoring him after Sunday. After that kiss.

After that kiss that had made my head spin and my limbs feel like spaghetti. A kiss that had twisted me up in heat and fear and desire, making me feel all sorts of things. Making me feel. And the weird thing was? I’d liked it a lot.

And that made me wonder just what it was that I had gotten myself into.

We drove through town and I followed the directions in my head— the ones Brent had given me when he’d called earlier. I drove to the end of the main drag and turned left onto Fossil Street, biting my lip when Nate sat taller and glanced my way.

“Where are we going, Monroe?” His voice wasn’t friendly anymore. In fact, it was downright harsh, and I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted blood as I took my foot off the accelerator and began to slow down.

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me wincing, and pulled the car into a parking spot. What was I going to say to him? Shoot. Think, Monroe.

I yanked out the key and turned to him. Crap. He looked angry.

“Don’t be mad.”

Wow. That was a great start.

His eyes were flat, his mouth tight and tense. “I’m guessing we’re not here because you want to go to Chuck E. Cheese.”

“No.”

Nate ran his hands through his hair and glanced out the window, across the street to the Coffee House. There was a patio out front and it was filled with people. Mostly teenagers, a few I recognized from the bush party.

“I ran into Brent today.”

He said nothing, his eyes still on the Coffee House, and I shivered, my skin damp from the humidity. How was I going to fix this?

“We can go somewhere else if you want,” I offered.

“Where did you see Brent?”

“Oh, at the, uh, market. He was buying stuff for his mom and I was there with Gram. He told me that it would be a good time and that he and the other guys you jam with would be here. I thought…”

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