Page 19 of The One
I could smell beer on his breath. A scent that wasn’t bad at all; it was actually really hot, especially since it was mixed with something minty, like gum, which he must have tossed before I arrived at the party.
“So, you’re saying your feelings haven’t changed?”
His eyes were fiery while they focused on mine. “Not even a little.”
Wow.
I’d convinced myself that I’d handled everything all wrong, that I should have called him, that I should have somehow persuaded my parents to let me go back to LA—at least for a visit. So, I’d prepared myself for the worst.
“Do you want to know something?” I waited for him to nod. “I didn’t think things were going to play out like this. The kiss in the janitor’s closet on my first day back, the way you called me the last couple of nights, or that the minute you saw me, you brought me up here so we could be alone. When I’d planned this all out in my head while I was still in Manhattan, I had been so worried …” My eyes closed as my voice drifted off.
When I felt movement, my eyelids opened, and Rhett was pulling back a little, as if he needed to get a better look at me.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You were the most popular freshman in our school, so I figured, by now, you’d be the most popular guy in the entire school. With that title, along with being a football star, comes all the girls.” I shrugged. “I assumed you’d be dating one.”
“Dating? No. I haven’t done much of that at all.” I could tell he wasn’t done talking. “I’m not going to lie to you and say you’re the first girl I’ve kissed. There were others—and other stuff happened.” He took in my expression. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. I just want to be honest. You deserve that.”
“I understand.”
Even though I hated it and the thought made me hurt, I couldn’t exactly expect a guy to have kept his lips and hands and whatever else to himself when I hadn’t even talked to him for over two years.
He held my chin. “Those girls are nothing to worry about. It was what it was, and it was over.” His voice softened with each word. “They weren’t you.”
“Are you the kind of guy who just doesn’t date at all?”
He laughed. “What would make you think that?”
“You didn’t date any of them. You just did … whatever.”
“Lainey”—he gently pressed his lips against mine, and I felt him breathe me in—“I wasn’t into dating them. You’re a different story.”
The tingles were flitting from my stomach to my chest, like they were attached to wings, hitting the walls of my insides the higher they got. “What kind of story am I?”
“What kind would you like to be?”
My shyness definitely took over, and I was almost too afraid to give an answer. “Rhett, I don’t know …”
“Yes, you do.”
If I had been red before, I now looked like I’d just run a marathon. “How about you tell me what kind of story you want?”
He smiled. “I asked you first.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I set the rules.”
“That’s not fair either.” I took a deep breath, debating how real I wanted to be with him, even though that was what thisconversation was about. I held in the air I’d just taken in and gradually released it. “I want everything.”
“What’s …everything?”
“Everything when it comes to you.”
“You’re saying you want to be my girlfriend?”
I was squirming on the inside. “Yes.” But then my stomach began to hurt as I thought of our conversation just moments ago. “But from what you said, it sounds like that’s something you don’t do.”
