Boys Like You

I reached up and kissed his mouth, this boy who I loved so much, and I whispered, “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

His dark eyes fell to my lips and he nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” I repeated, pulling him after me as we disappeared into the dark.

Chapter Thirty-One

Nathan

The ride back to my place didn’t take long. Five minutes maybe. But it was a long five minutes.

A long five minutes filled with a lot of thoughts I wasn’t so sure I should be thinking about.

First off, Monroe looked so freaking hot tonight that I’d barely been able to keep my hands off her. That little top she wore had Brent’s eyes bugging out of his head when he’d first laid eyes on her.

I couldn’t blame the guy. He was human, after all, but still. I’d never felt this possessive of a girl before, and when I caught Chad checking her out—elbowing the guys on the team to do the same—I could have easily gone all caveman on them, but I didn’t think Monroe would like that kind of shit.

But the thing that made all of this so much harder was the fact that this was our last night together, and though I tried to keep my thoughts PG, it hadn’t exactly worked.

I thought about her in that little bikini she’d worn when I had taken her to Baker’s Landing. I thought of how she’d felt all slippery and wet. How her pupils dilated when she kissed me and she made these sounds in her throat when I kissed her back.

She was so beautiful. So damn perfect.

And I didn’t know what to do with that. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I deserved her, I was over that shit. But I loved this girl—I loved her more than I thought it was possible to love a girl. And here we were, counting down our last minutes together, and I suppose I should have been happy to just cuddle and talk, but man, all I could think about was getting her alone. In my room.

Naked.

“We’re here.”

Yanked from my thoughts, I glanced at my house. A house that was in darkness.

A house that was empty.

She cut the engine and turned to me. “I had to get out of there,” she said suddenly.

“I know.” I tried to make things light, but when she turned to me, there were tears in her eyes. What the hell?

“Hey,” I whispered, unbuckling my seat belt as she did the same and scooted over onto my lap. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head as if she was trying to decide what to say, and then she spoke so softly I had to listen hard in order to hear her.

“I talked to Rachel.”

“Rachel,” I repeated.

I tried to keep it together. To keep it cool. But the truth was, there was a lot that Rachel could tell Monroe if she wanted to screw my night up. A lot. Shit. This had to be a guy’s worst nightmare. No one wanted their ex-girlfriend gossiping about sex stuff to the new girlfriend.

“She seems really messed up.”

I nodded. Messed up was an understatement. I’d known Rachel for a long t

ime, and she was way more messed up than anyone knew. There were a lot of family issues—mainly with her stepfather—and she smoked too much weed and drank more than she should. I wasn’t sure if she was ever going to be the carefree fun girl I started dating in ninth grade.

“What did she want?” I asked hesitantly.

“I’m not sure,” Monroe said. “But I think she was checking to make sure I was treating you right.”

Huh.