From the Beginning

Chapter 8

Leah's POV

As we sat on Ian's bed and watched Pulp Fiction together, I couldn't help but sneak little peaks at him from time to time, wanting to know if he was as affected by our little moment as I was. He seemed completely relaxed though, watching the screen and grinning whenever Samuel L. Jackson delivered a line. I looked back at the screen, shifting a little in my seat and biting my lip as I thought back to our almost-kiss.

He made me feel so much better after what happened with Kevin today, listening to me vent and joking around with me. He almost made me forget what I was upset about until he asked, but even then he made me feel better within a few minutes. I couldn't help but notice how handsome he'd looked when he was hovering over me, his arms tensed slightly as he held himself up, his eyes looking even lighter than normal as they sparkled with humor, his full lips pulled up into a beautiful grin.

My gaze flicked over to him again, watching as his lips formed another smile. It was a lot harder than I thought to not turn his head towards me and see how that almost-kiss would've gone, but every time I thought about it, the guilt from rejecting Kevin resurfaced and I immediately felt terrible about already having thoughts about another guy, let alone one I just met. Damnit, my mom was right.

We were watching John Travolta and Uma Thurman dance when we heard a knock on the door, and we looked over to see Ian's mom walk in. "Hey kids, we're going to be ordering pizza in a few minutes. Leah, what kind of pizza do you like," she asked, looking right at me.

"I like meat-lovers, but I can honestly eat whatever you guys get," I said, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Alright, no problem. I'll call you guys when it gets here," she said, smiling at her son and closing the door as she left the room.

"Meat-lovers? I'm assuming you've never even attempted to try to eat a vegetable on a pizza ," I heard Ian say, and I looked over to see him smirking at me, the movie paused.

"I'll have you know that I like mushrooms and red onions, and those are the only vegetables that matter on a pizza," I said, nudging his side and sticking my tongue out at him.

He sighed dramatically and shook his head in a very disappointed way. "Well I just don't think this friendship is going to work out with your disappointing taste in pizza toppings."

I smirked and crossed my arms. "Well I don't think I want to be friends with someone who judges people on something as insignificant as that," I said, tilting my head.

He looked at me, his face deadly serious as he spoke. "Don't you ever describe anything related to pizza as insignificant," he said, sticking a finger right in between my eyes.

I laughed and slapped his hand away from my face. I watched as he picked up the controller and was about to play the movie again but he froze as he heard me speak up.

"Did you have a girlfriend back in New York?" His eyes snapped to me for a minute as he processed my question, raising his eyebrow curiously.

"Why the sudden interest in my love life? Are you interested in setting me up with someone," he asked, setting the controller down on his nightstand and turning his body towards me slightly.

"No, but I want to know what your type is so I can give your number to all the pretty girls at school that fit the description," I responded quickly, folding my legs up toward me butterfly style.

He watched me for a second before smirking and leaning a little bit closer to me. "Maybe the only pretty girl that I want having my number is you."

My breath caught in my throat, staring at him wide-eyed as I tried to think of a response. My senses were on high-alert with how close he was to me, and I needed to stay strong. "So I take it that means you're into brunettes," I stated weakly, clearing my throat as my voice came out a little husky.