Page 37 of Bad Crush
“What?” She glances side to side.
“The lucky scrunchie?”
“Oh.” She reaches up and touches it and then glides her hand down to the end of her ponytail. “Yeah, I did. It was in my purse.”
I gaze out into the empty theater. “Man, I don’t know how you do it. I feel nervous just being up here thinking about what you do.”
“I love it. This is my favorite place.” There’s a reverence to her tone.
“It’s kind of creepy being in here by yourself.” The more I think about it, the less I like the idea of her alone in this dark place with no one around. It might be my dislike of public speaking and standing on a stage facing rows and rows of seats, but this feels like a scene straight out of a horror movie.
“Mr. Hoffman’s office is right outside, and I’m pretty sure he’d hear me scream.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“I’m fine. Besides, you’re here now.”
I pull her to her feet and kiss her. Crazy. I still can’t believe we’re kissing now. This is a thing. We kiss. A lot. And it’s fire.
“Besides making out, what did you have in mind when you invited me here?” I’m about five seconds from distracting her from whatever plans she has if they don’t include my lips on her body.
“No plan, I just went with the one place I thought we couldn’t be hammered with questions. Do you know how many texts Ginny sent me today?”
“If it’s half as many as she sent me, then I have a pretty good idea. What did you tell her?” I ask.
“Who?”
“Ginny. When she texted and askedwhat happened?andwhat does it all mean?” I change my voice to mock Ginny’s bubbly and excited tone.
“I sent a series of GIFS indicating my silence on the topic, and I’ve been hiding out here. And you?”
“I didn’t respond, which will drive her crazy. She’s probably waiting at the apartment to pounce on me when I get home.”
“That’s as good of a reason to stay as any.” Reagan presses her lips to mine and kisses me hard. Glad we’re on the same page with our plans for tonight. Kissing. Because kissing is awesome.
There’s too much adrenaline pumping through me to stay still. Attacking her mouth, I back her up, moving to one side of the stage. It’s dark, but I find a wall and pin her against it.
“I can’t seem to get close enough.” I’m flattening her against the hard concrete, and still, it isn’t enough.
I boost her up, and she wraps her legs around me.
“Any closer and we’ll be one person.” She tugs on my hair and sucks on my bottom lip.
“I forgot to ask about your day.”
“My day?” Her laughter is the best damn sound. “My day was good. How was yours?”
“Better now.”
“We’re not going to be able to hide from them forever.”
“I’m not hiding. I just want you to myself.” I bite down on her neck, and she squeals and laughs.
There’s so much I don’t know about Reagan, and I want to get to know her. I honestly do, despite the way I keep mauling her. It just seems like in order to get to know each other, we have to get some of our physical feelings out of the way. And stay the hell away from our friends.
“Hello?” a male voice calls out from the back of the audience.
“Shit,” Reagan whispers and jumps out of my arms. She smooths a hand down her hair frantically and steps out toward the middle of the stage. “It’s just me, Mr. Hoffman.”
