Page 22 of Kiss Collector
A loud group of guys comes out, laughing and talking crudely. The stench of cigarette smoke wafts toward us.
“Oh, hey,” Monica says in a hushed whisper. “It’s Rex Morino, professional fukboi.”
I glance over my shoulder at the group. Sure enough, Rex Morino is right in the middle, leaning back against the deck rail with one elbow while his other hand holds a cigarette between his thumb and finger. His four friends circle him, all in clunky boots and grungy T-shirts. I know for sure one’s been in juvi and the other goes to an alternative school.
Last year Lin and Monica had simultaneous crushes on Rex, and it got ugly. He toyed with them both during the class they had together. For six months there’d been a rift in our friendship. All because of this stupid guy.
I don’t look away fast enough, and Rex captures my eye. His are practically black, and partially hidden by his dyed bangs, also black. They all have overgrown hair. I try to be nice to everyone at school, but I don’t bother with these guys. I avoid them like the scary dudes they are.
Rex Morino gives me a nod and blows smoke through his lips and nose. “See somethin’ you want, rah-rah?”
His whole group turns to see who he’s talking to, and they snigger. My friends freeze under their scrutiny.
“Let’s go,” Kenz whispers.
“No, hold on,” I say to her, feeling emboldened.
How many girls has Rex Morino hurt? He was my crush in the eighth grade. I wonder if he remembers dancing with me at the Snow Ball, telling me he’d be right back with cups of punch for us, then slinking out the side door with some other girl. I’d obsessed over him for months. Clinging to every look he gave me. Every word he uttered near me. Looking for somesign that he wanted me and hoping his leaving was all a big misunderstanding.
I walk toward him now, feeling a strange pull. His friends part to let me in, malicious grins on their faces. A surge of confidence that stems from a lack of caring fills me.
“Zae, what are you doing?” Monica hisses behind me. But I only have eyes for Rex Morino. The heartbreaker.
He grins now, amused beyond belief that I have moved into his bubble—that I haven’t blushed and run away.
“Careful, girl,” he says, never taking those lazy, dark eyes off me, even as he crushes his cigarette in the raised flowerpot next to him. “Once you taste this, everything else is bland.”
Oh, please.
His friends cackle at the purposefully stupid line, and he laughs, too.
I have no idea what’s gotten into me, but it feels good to stand face-to-face with Rex Morino without fear. To surprise him. To be in his sights and have his complete attention. He’s bad. An untouchable. Close up, I see the red in his eyes from when he smoked up tonight. He’s high.
“Something you want?” he asks again, but this time his voice is low, careful.
“A kiss,” I say. I can feel my heart pounding all the way up in my throat.
One of his friends whistles, but Rex and I never lose eye contact as his friends act like heathens around us. My pulse is still racing, but I embrace it. It’s been almost a year since I’ve kissed anyone other than Wylie. I feel a jab in my gut, like I’m being unfaithful, but I swipe it aside. I belong tome.
Rex doesn’t say a word. Nor does he smile again. Or hesitate.
His tattooed hand slips under my ponytail and to the back of my neck with complete ownership as he pulls my mouth to his.
In a distant land, I hear my friends screech my name in shock, but I’m focused on that smoky, masculine mouth. Those expert lips and tongue that possess mine. My hands slip into the thick, silky hair at the back of his head, as his hands slide down my waist to the belt loops of my jeans. There he hooks his fingers and yanks my hips closer to his.
This kiss is different for me from any others I’ve experienced. I’m lost in the physical sensations but emotionally detached from it.
Like a guy.
Rex’s hands roam farther down, cupping my butt, which is my cue. I slowly pull away, taking a steady step back. When he stares at me like I’m some kind of glowing anomaly, it’s my turn to grin.
“Thanks,” I say.
His mouth is still open as I turn away. His friends gawk. My friends gawk.
“Come on,” I say to the girls.
They follow me, our hands automatically linking. I pull us like a train through the party, refusing to stop for anything.
