All the Sweet Move (All The Right Moves 1)

I grab her hand and pull her in for a quick peck on the lips to shut her up. “Sit down already, would you?”

It does the trick; she plops down in the seat I kicked out. Molly glares at me—hey, at least she’s here—before making a show of digging through her backpack. Since I’m new at this whole thing, I genuinely wonder how long she’s going to keep ignoring me, despite the fact that she’s now seated at my table.

I don’t have to wonder long.

“You really hurt my feelings,” she whispers across the table without looking up from the open notebook in front of her.

“How?” Sorry, but I’m clueless. I mean…I might have something of an inkling, but come on, people, it’s not like two days is exactly a lifetime to wait for a phone call.

“Because, jackass, I put myself out there and you couldn’t get ahold of me?” Molly puts down her pen and levels me with her bright green eyes blazing. “Look, it’s fine if you aren’t interested, but just say so.”

I push the ball cap back on my forehead and lean over slowly so we’re eye to eye. “Oh, I’m definitely interested.” I can tell by looking at her that her heart rate accelerates; her pupils dilate and her cheeks immediately get pink. Then I make her laugh when I say, “Want me to prove it to you by carrying your books to your locker?”

Molly shakes her head back and forth but does nothing to hide her grin. “Why do I have the feeling you’re going to be a pain in my ass?” She gasps as her hand flies up to her mouth, obviously mortified that she swore in front of me.

Big deal. Like I care.

“Yeah, probably, but I bet you’ll like it.” I shrug. “Hey, do you have any food in your bag?”

Nodding, she drags her backpack across the table and reaches her arm in, feels around, and then blindly pulls out a bag of cashews and a granola bar. “You seem…hungry a lot. Is food all you think about?”

I grab the granola bar and tear into the wrapper with my teeth while she stares slack-jawed. “Uh, yeah—well, that and sex.”

CHAPTER 18

MOLLY

“The thing about guys is we have to tell them what they want, and that’s bible. You should probably write that down somewhere.”

– Maddie

My legs feel kind of wobbly when the bell finally rings and we make our way down the hall.

I can hardly believe Weston is walking behind me, let alone walking me to my locker. The heat from his hand on the small of my back imprints on my skin as he guides me along through the crowded hallway, and strangely enough, he seems to know exactly where he’s going—like he’s been to my locker before.

The few times I get jostled by the sea of people, Weston’s large hand comes around and grips my waist to steady me, and it does terrible things to my insides. We reach my locker, and after I dial the combination and pull open the small metal door, he leans forward and says near my ear, “I can’t really stick around. I should get to practice, or Coach will chew my ass out for being late.”

I shiver and nod my head, barely comprehending. What warm-blooded female could concentrate with his hot breath near their ear? “Jesus, don’t do that,” I mumble.

“Do what?” his low voice rumbles again.

I turn to face him, and I’ve put us in a position where his lips are now inches from mine. “We’ve been on one date. Don’t you think panting all over each other in the hallway is moving a little fast?”

“Uh, no? Panting is only the start of what I want to do with you.”

“Who talks like that? We’re in high school.” I give him a smack then let my hand linger from his bicep back up to his broad shoulder. In typical guy fashion, Weston flexes his muscles. “Ugh, you’re so…”

“Sexy?”

“I was going to say ridiculous…but yeah, you’re sexy too.” I turn toward my locker and start putting books in.

“Hmm, can’t say any girl has ever called me ridiculous before, but I guess I can see it. Want to have noodles with me tonight?”

I turn back around to face him and wrinkle my nose. “See, now when you say noodles like that—definitely not sexy.”

Weston laughs and reaches for me, his large hand spanning my waist. “Shit, you get me so worked up and you don’t even try.”

I groan because I cannot honestly believe I’m standing here having this conversation. “If I say yes to noodles, will you leave me alone and go to practice?”

“Yes, but first you have to—”

“Well now, isn’t this cozy. Not wasting any time, Weston?”

* * *

Weston

The snarky voice that interrupts us belongs to none other than Alexis Peterson. She’s standing across the hallway, shooting daggers at Molly’s back, one hand propped on her hip in a defensive stance. For the life of me, I don’t know why any girl who wants to date me would get all up in my shit like it’s any of her damn business.