Boys Like You

I’d wanted to see Nate, and this had been my excuse. It had been my way of getting around the fact that I’d been a total asshole, ignoring him after Sunday. After that kiss.

After that kiss that had made my head spin and my limbs feel like spaghetti. A kiss that had twisted me up in heat and fear and desire, making me feel all sorts of things. Making me feel. And the weird thing was? I’d liked it a lot.

And that made me wonder just what it was that I had gotten myself into.

We drove through town and I followed the directions in my head—the ones Brent had given me when he’d called earlier. I drove to the end of the main drag and turned left onto Fossil Street, biting my lip when Nate sat taller and glanced my way.

“Where are we going, Monroe?” His voice wasn’t friendly anymore. In fact, it was downright harsh, and I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted blood as I took my foot off the accelerator and began to slow down.

I cleared my throat, an exaggerated sort of thing that had me wincing, and pulled the car into a parking spot. What was I going to say to him? Shoot. Think, Monroe.

I yanked out the key and turned to him. Crap. He looked angry.

“Don’t be mad.”

Wow. That was a great start.

His eyes were flat, his mouth tight and tense. “I’m guessing we’re not here because you want to go to Chuck E. Cheese.”

“No.”

Nate ran his hands through his hair and glanced out the window, across the street to the Coffee House. There was a patio out front and it was filled with people. Mostly teenagers, a few I recognized from the bush party.

“I ran into Brent today.”

He said nothing, his eyes still on the Coffee House, and I shivered, my skin damp from the humidity. How was I going to fix this?

“We can go somewhere else if you want,” I offered.

“Where did you see Brent?”

“Oh, at the, uh, market. He was buying stuff for his mom and I was there with Gram. He told me that it would be a good time and that he and the other guys you jam with would be here. I thought…”

“Clearly you weren’t thinking.”

No. Clearly I wasn’t.

I exhaled and drummed my fingers along the steering wheel, not really sure what to do or say.

“I can take you home,” I said slowly.

“I don’t want to go home.”

Okay.

“Well, where do you want me to take you?”

“I don’t want you to take me anywhere.”

Nate was pissed, and though I couldn’t really blame him, the snark in his voice still stung.

“Well, that’s pretty vague.”

“It’s all I got,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

His eyes were flat. “I don’t want this shit pushed on me.”