I rushed from one class to another the next day. My heart was in my throat— knowing that at any minute I could run into Lauren—so I kept my eyes focused straight ahead. Literally.
All through French class it had been almost impossible to keep my mind off last night. Her hands, her lips, her . . .
Nope. Not going there.
I had liked it. That much I was willing to admit. But why did she kiss me if not to prove that she could? And why the hell did I let her?!
I'd decided to treat it as a drunken move on her part, and an emotional breakdown on mine.
As I headed to lunch, I hurriedly stuffed my crap into my locker and jetted around the corner to the cafeteria, trying to keep my eyes from wandering. "Oomph." The air was knocked out of my lungs, and I stumbled to the ground.
What the . . . ?
I winced with the ache in my ass from the collapse to the cold tile floor, and I tried to blink away the disturbance to my equilibrium.
Looking up, I sucked in a breath and felt a warm fluttering to my belly at the sight of Lauren hovering over me.
Shit. I'd crashed right into her. And here I was, trying to avoid her like the plague. So much for best laid plans.
I couldn't get over how just the presence of her undid me. I gawked stupidly, unable to tear my eyes away from how gorgeously her blouse hung below her narrow waist or how sexy her rich long, dark hair was styled today.
Seeing me flat on my bum, she should've given me a smug smile or scowl. I flushed with embarrassment, knowing how stupid I must've looked.
But I got nothing from her. Nothing bad, anyway.
She reached out to me, and I looked at her wide-eyed, wondering what the
hell was she was doing.
Was she. . . .helping me up?
She held her smooth, long-fingered hand, palm up, to me, and my toes curled with the gesture.
Wow. Maybe the kiss wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe she'd start behaving himself now.
And then she quirked an eyebrow at me, as if annoyed that she was waiting. I scowled at her same old haughty attitude.
Oh, no. Don't do me any favors, buddy!
Pushing myself roughly off the ground, I dusted off my jeans and stalked
past her, around the corner.
While my body definitely reacted positively to her, my brain practiced a
zero tolerance policy . . . from now on.
***
Ben and I met up Friday night after the game. I wanted to keep our date, even though I had spent the better part of the last two days trying not to think of someone else. There was nothing between Lauren and I. There was no reason to call off a date with a not-yet-boyfriend just because I kissed another girl, even if I did feel a little guilty about it.
Ben was easy. And I needed easy. I deserved it. I just needed to get my body under control. Fucking hormones.
"So I've been meaning to ask you something." Ben seemed amused but timid as we finished our pizza.
"Let me see." I put my index finger to my lips. "Yes, I do all of my own stunts, and no, I don't normally eat that much," I joked and took a sip of my Coke.
"No, not exactly." He wagged his finger at me and took out his credit card for the waitress as she came by.
"I'm listening."
"You mentioned this girl that your character was friends with in the monologue. They were close, and then she turned against her. You said she drove a Mustang?"
I nodded, wondering where he was going with this.
"Lauren Jauregui drives a Boss 302. A Mustang Boss 302," he pointed out.
Sweat broke out across my brow, but I nodded again. I knew what he was getting at, but there wouldn't be any answers if that was what he was hoping for. It was bad enough that I'd kissed Lauren, behind Dinah's back, but Lauren and I only had one kiss. And that's all there would be. I wasn't about to explain something I didn't even understand to Ben.
