Any excuse to touch her, right?
CHAPTER 14
MOLLY
“Make him work real hard for that first kiss…okay, maybe not that hard.”
– Jenna, totally contradicting herself
“Well, I guess this is me.” I state the obvious as Weston pulls his dad’s Hummer into the turnaround in front of my house and cuts the engine. The porch lights shine their soft glow into the cab, and suddenly the air is hotter and the atmosphere is thick with expectation. There is a strip of light shining across his eyes and the rest of his face is bathed in shadows, as if he’s wearing a mask. I look over to the garage, inwardly groaning when I see Matt’s white Tahoe parked next to my Wrangler. Shit, shit, double shit. The lights are on inside the house, and I know the longer we sit here, the less time we have before Matt comes busting out of the house to interrogate my date.
I draw in a long breath then let it slowly out—a move learned in yoga class—and turn to Weston, who has his arm stretched out with his hand on the back of my headrest. Just the close proximity of that hand—the hand that’s not even doing anything but resting there, for heaven’s sake—has my heart fluttering like a butterfly being tossed in the breeze.
Weston glances at the house. “Yeah, I guess this is your stop.” His eyes shine and crinkle at the corners, and his lips lift into a smile, the kind of smile that makes me want to lean over and kiss the crook of his lips.
I glance down at the large center console positioned between us and frown. Crap, that’s inconvenient. Now I can’t get any closer by scooting over. “Walk me to the door?”
* * *
Weston
I jog around to Molly’s side of the car to get her door, the whole time wondering if she’s the type of girl who kisses on the first date. God, I hope so. We walk leisurely up the porch steps, taking them slowly one at a time, neither of us in a hurry to reach the top.
The black jacket Molly had been wearing earlier on the date has since been removed, and her shoulders are smooth and shimmery. “Do you have something on your arms? It looks like…glitter?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s, uh, body dust. Jenna practically had to hold me down to get it on me.” She scoffs with a laugh, running her hands up and down her arms self-consciously. “It’s not normally my thing.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“It’s edible,” she abruptly blurts out, then looks horrified, but I suddenly find this the most fascinating thing she’s said all night. Wow, how did I not know this before? Girls have body stuff that you can eat? That’s totally weird, and also hot. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”
“Um, I hate to break it to you, Molly, but edible body glitter just became my new favorite thing as of right this second.”
“Well…then I guess it’s my new favorite thing too.”
“So I’m wondering…do you think we should just kiss already to break this tension?” I suggest with a good deal of hope in my voice, extending my right hand toward her. Smiling, Molly takes it and steps toward me as I tug, pulling her against me.
* * *
Molly
With our bodies pressed this close together, it’s hard not to notice every solid muscle of Weston’s firm body. Resting both my hands on his firm chest, I let them roam a little before snaking them unhurriedly around to his back.
I’ve never in my life felt a guy up before, but he must like it, because it’s earning me a low growl of approval before Weston tips his head down and presses his lips lightly to my forehead. He trails them down to my temple, kissing the delicate skin by my eyes. I let out a long, satisfied sigh as he pushes my hair back with his large hand, the contact with my bare skin sending a ripple of electricity down my spine. Weston leans back to look in my eyes then, grinning, continues lavishing kisses near my ear, nipping at my lobe with his teeth.
My eyes flutter closed as his tongue licks the side of my neck, his mouth searing my collarbone. He lets out an “Mmmm” and in my drunk-like stupor, I vow to thank Jenna later for the vanilla-flavored body dust.
She would absolutely kill me right now for not playing hard to get—make him work for it then leave him wanting it, she told me no less than ten times. Also, it’s hard to forget you’re standing on your parents’ front porch with lights shining on you, but with Weston’s hot breath on my body, making me insane for more, I can’t even remember what state we live in.
Weston is inhaling the scent of my almond shampoo while running his fingertips up and down my back, settling them on my sides and flexing his fingers before pressing them into my hips. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.