Page 42 of Starting Over with You
“To dance,” he corrects, but then he shrugs. “And if I leave with a willing dance partner, what’s wrong with that?”
Why does my stomach fall at that? Was I about to be one of those girls? I really wish that were true. Maybe he does want what I want. A roll in the sheets and good times.
I press my lips together and nod. “Well, sorry for ruining your night.”
His eyes darken as he leans closer to me. “You were the highlight.”
I swallow hard as Missy calls out, “Okay, well, come on. I’ll drive us home.”
I’m unable to move, so I’m thankful when Dean steps toward the door, opening it for me. He takes my hand as I get in since it’s one hell of a step up, and then he squeezes my hand. “Goodnight, Kenni.”
His voice is rough, and it’s almost like he doesn’t want to say goodnight to me. Missy leans over me, waving her hands in his face, and he laughs. “Night, Missy.”
He shuts the door, his eyes still on me, and it takes a Herculean effort to pull my gaze away as Missy takes off. When I glance in the side mirror, I see him watching the truck drive away, his shoulders as low as his hat is on his brow. I have this urge to go back…and do what? I don’t know.
I do know that for the first time in my life, I’m bummed that Missy showed up.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Kenni
Twenty-three years ago…
“You can’t be that weird band geek going into high school who has never been kissed!”
I give my best friend a bored look as I wipe down my flute that apparently makes me a weird band geek. Or maybe it’s the fact that they’d already lost their virginities by my age and I haven’t even been kissed. In my defense, between school, band, and no one being able to get past my sister and best friend, how am I supposed to kiss anyone?
Daddy with a shotgun has nothing on Missy and Sadie.
“I love Drew Barrymore and she’s a hottie, but you will not be the walking version ofNever Been Kissed,” my sister adds, shaking her head as she looks through her yearbook for ‘potential candidates.’ “We need someone who isn’t a dick, but who can kiss.”
“Only dicks know how to kiss,” Sadie snorts. “There’s gotta be something wrong for them to rock your socks off.”
I roll my eyes. Don’t get me wrong; I’m boy crazy just like these two. I want to kiss someone. I want to feel that spark and that flutter in mychest, but it just hasn’t happened. I’m sure that’s okay, and it’s not like I’m not practicing. I kiss my Backstreet Boys posters every night. Brian Littrell is the hottest of the group with his blue eyes that remind me of…
I clear my throat as Missy says, “I feel it should be Seb. He’s hot as fuck but also dorky.”
My eyes widen as I quickly shake my head. “No way. I can’t do that to Noelle.”
They both roll their eyes. Everyone knows that Noelle is crushing hard on Sebastian. She has a diary where she draws little hearts with N+S in them. If he’s somewhere, she’s usually around with her eyes all dopey for him. Unfortunately, Seb doesn’t pay her any mind.
“She needs to just climb him like she’s a little bear,” Sadie says, leaning in beside Missy to look at her yearbook.
“He’d probably push her off. He doesn’t want anything to do with her.”
My heart drops at that, an ache forming in my belly. I know how much Noelle likes him, and it sucks that he doesn’t feel the same. At least she’s had her first kiss. It wasn’t him, but rumor is he beat up the guy who did. I sigh deeply as I take apart my flute and put it in its case before the door opens, and, like always, my pathetic heart stops.
Dean Moore.
Sadie’s younger brother.
And a total dreamboat.
His brown hair is slicked back like he just got out of the shower, his curls wild against the back of his neck and some tendrils falling along his cheekbones. He’s massive in her doorway, his Wranglers hanging low on his hips while he wears no shirt whatsoever. Everyone makes fun of him for dressing like a cowboy since he’s a hockey player, but he is a cowboy. He works at a ranch an hour away on the weekends, and then he stays on all summer to be a ranch hand on his great-uncle’s ranch. His granddad did the same, as did his dad, so it’s only right for Dean to follow in their footsteps.
As he leans on the door, my eyes drift down to the hell of an eight-pack that he’s smuggling around, and the sight makes me all tingly. He’s a year older than me and treats me like I’m his breakable little sister. Really, he treats all of us like that, while Sadie and Missy are a year older than he is.
