The Good, the Bad, and the Gwen | ✔️

20 - Best Date EVER

Sully's hands skim my arms before cupping my face. "Gwen?" His tone is slow and teasing.

I'm too humiliated to meet his gaze.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" he asks again.

I swallow hard, my eyeballs straining so far to the side they feel like they might flip around backward. And I wish they would. Staring at the blood vessels and gray matter inside my brain would be so much easier than looking at Sully's face. I let out a sigh of resignation. "I've never been kissed before. Okay?"

Sully moves back but doesn't release his grip. "Never?"

"Not even a little," I confess.

"And you're not looking at me why?" He turns my head so our eyes connect. "Did you not want me to know?"

I say nothing.

"Gwen?" His voice sounds pleading. "Why didn't you tell me?"

My brows crinkle as I debate how to answer. "Because you thought I'd already been kissed."

He's taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"That night at the bonfire," I tell him. "You said I'd probably been kissed by plenty of guys. I didn't want to let you down."

"Let me down? Why in the world would I be let down?"

I shrug, heat swamping my cheeks. "I don't know. I just—I didn't want you to think I was inexperienced."

"Inexperienced?" He's still holding my face. "Do you honestly think I care about that?"

I shrug again.

Sully lets out a long breath. "When I said that you'd probably been kissed by plenty of guys that was just me trying to get more information out of you. Like if you had a boyfriend. I guess I should have just asked. But I felt ... stupid."

"You felt stupid?" I stare at him unblinking. "Why would you feel stupid? I'm sure you've been kissed before—right?"

"Well ... yeah. But I—" Now it's his turn to shrug. "I've never kissed by someone I really like. And I really like you, Gwen. A lot."

My lips part. "You do?"

He nods. "I do."

"But why? When you live next door to Hartley, how could you possibly like me?"

His eyes widen and then narrow. "What do you mean?"

I look down. "I'm sure you've noticed how pretty she is. And how funny and exciting and unpredictable. I'm none of those things. I'm just...." My voice trails off.

"Look at me." He tilts my chin.

"No."

"Gwen." He says my name with insistence. "Please."

I glance up through my lashes.

"All the way," he scolds.

I let out a huff and lift my head. Our eyes meet. An irresistible smirk is playing on his lips. "I don't like Hartley. I like you. And I think you're pretty and funny and exciting and unpredictable. Take tonight for example." He pauses. "When you walked out of the house, it felt like someone stole all the air."

I cringe. "That doesn't sound like a good thing."

"It was the best thing," he says. "Plus, you make me laugh all the time. And right now—this entire conversation—I could never have predicted this in a million years."