Shut Up And Kiss Me (gxg)

10. Oh, F*ck, I'm Done For

        The doorbell rang twenty minutes later.

        I had already gathered every ounce of courage in my blood, and once I had sprinted downstairs, flushed with all the confidence I'd gotten from looking in the mirror and calling myself a bad bitch, I threw open the door.

         But it wasn't Aaron standing there.

         Monroe Kingston held a lasagna on my front porch, her green eyes dimmed in the golden light. Evening shadow danced over the hollows of her face.

         Well, this was fucking perfect. This was the last person I wanted to see.

         "Stop smiling," I hissed, before my mother came up from behind me. "Why are you here?"

         "To bring you a lasagna, obviously," she said through her teeth.

         "Oh, sweetheart," Mom said, lifting the lasagna out of Monroe's hands and ushering her inside. "You must be Aaron's cousin! We've heard so much about you. Your uncle thinks you're a sweetheart."

          Then her uncle must have been lying.

          "I invited Aaron, not you," I whispered once my mom was out of earshot. Was I being rude? Yes. Did Monroe make me question my sexuality? Also yes. Did I want to experience this mysterious sexual tension between us at the dinner table? No. No. No.

         "Aaron is coming in five minutes, he told me to just bring the lasagna over while it's still warm."

         "Only Aaron. Not you," I hissed.

          She lifted a shoulder, as though whatever I said didn't matter. As though she couldn't care less.

          Anger boiled in my blood. I was two seconds away from grabbing her by the throat and—fuck, was that supposed to turn me on?

         As my mom reached into the oven, Monroe trailed her fingers over the collar of my shirt. My breath quickened.

         "I can see right through you," she whispered.

         I swallowed. "Bullshit."

         She only smiled in response, and my mother called out, "Dinner's ready!"

          There was no way in hell I was going to sit at the dinner table with Monroe, burning with inappropriate feelings about her mouth between my legs, while my mother, father, sister, and future boyfriend were two feet away. No fucking way in hell.

          Five minutes later, I was sitting across from Monroe, watching her with narrowed eyes and barely concealed rage as she cut into a slice of lasagna.

          Beside me, Aaron raised his eyebrows and said under his breath, "Talia, you're acting weird right now. Is this because of what I said earlier? Because I promise we can just forget about—"

         "No!" I put down my fork a little too hard. With alarmed eyes, Claudia glanced over. "No," I continued sweetly, making sure to lean in extra close to Aaron. "I wanted to talk to you about that, later, actually."

          Monroe smirked, as if to say, Who are you trying to convince? 

          I couldn't stand that look. Impulsively, I grabbed onto Aaron's hand. For a second, all thoughts of fucking Monroe vanished from my head.